


Guide to Demon Summoning

by Onyx_Stars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling, Demon AU, Flashbacks, Fluff, Incubus!Keith, M/M, Smut, Symptoms of PTSD, everyone is bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyx_Stars/pseuds/Onyx_Stars
Summary: Technically, Shiro knew that the smartest thing to do would be to burn the book and never touch anything like it ever again. But a part of him still had hope that Matt and Sam Holt were alive somewhere, somehow—and in that case, his only way of finding them would be to use this book, that much was certain. This time, he'd try something different. A weaker sort of demon, ahelperas Google Translate had provided.What Shiro was entirely unprepared for, however, was Keith, the grumpy incubus he got instead.Meanwhile, Pidge just wanted to get her family back, Hunk really wanted to leave the demon hunting business, and Lance only wanted to get through college.{AU where every alien is a demon instead}





	1. Tip 01 — Don't use Google Translate to find out what you're summoning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what to say, this was supposed to be a small exercise in writing smut and now it's a whole AU with 90% plot.  
> Pairings, characters and tags will be added along the way. Don't expect it to be only Sheith forever :p  
> I know the whole consent thing can be really shady with incubus AU stuff, but please be assured that I am a huge wuss who wants everyone to be happy. So while not all sex will happen because of True Love™, it will always be agreed upon by all parties of their own free, uninhibited will.  
> If anyone wants to sign up as a beta reader for my beginner's level smut, or just yell at me about Voltron, you can always message me on my [tumblr](http://onyx-stars.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Have fun! :D

Shiro took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. His gaze kept flitting back and forth between the book resting on his crossed legs and the summoning sign drawn on his hardwood floor in front of him. He'd used non-waterproof markers this time and was hoping that wiping the circle away later wouldn't be too much work—provided, of course, he'd still be alive to even get to that part. 

And he would still be alive, hopefully, if things didn't go horribly wrong this time. 

He shuddered, the memory of last time all too happy to make its reappearance. Matt's screams echoed in his ears—the book on his lap tipped over, and he hastily reached forward to grab it. He stared as it dropped to the ground, dumbfounded. Slowly, his gaze wandered to his right side where his hand hadn't moved at all. Of course it hadn't moved. It wasn't there any more. Nothing was there anymore, beyond half of his upper arm. 

He willed down the shaking in his left hand, pulled the book back into his lap, and sifted through it to find his page again. 

He had to do this right. This time, there couldn't be any mistakes. 

Life without his right arm was hard. He still hadn't gotten used to the changes in the three weeks since he'd left the hospital. But what was truly unacceptable was that Matt and Matt's father were still missing. 

A mysterious disappearance, according to the press. The police were still looking, but hadn't found any clues so far. Shiro had been the only one left in the house that night, his right arm missing, a nasty cut over the bridge of his nose and left in a coma for three months. 

Or at least that's what he'd been told when he'd woken up in the hospital. 

He still didn't completely understand what had gone wrong that night. How had a bit of playful fooling around with a 'magic book' Matt had dug up lead to so much chaos and misery? Shiro had never expected any of it to work. Magic wasn't real, right? 

The lack of two people and his arm insisted otherwise, though. 

Technically, Shiro knew that the smartest thing to do would be to burn the book and never touch anything like it ever again. But a part of him still had hope that Matt and Sam Holt were alive somewhere, somehow—and in that case, his only way of finding them would be to use this book, that much was certain. 

He wasn't playing around this time. He had painstakingly searched for all possible means to safeguard the room against evil creatures. He had set up charms and incense and muttered spells, half of which probably didn't even work, but Shiro had used everything he could find. Whatever he summoned this time, it wouldn't get the drop on him like the last— _wide mouth full of needle-sharp teeth, the purple body towering over him, empty eyes glowing a sickly yellow, claws lunging for his face_ — 

He shuddered again, cursing when the book nearly slid off his lap a second time. 

What had it even been that he and Matt had summoned? A demon? The book had called it that. Or at least they had assumed so after using Google Translate to sift through the various bits of Latin, Ancient Greek and other languages. 

Finally, Shiro found his page again and propped open the book. 

This time, he'd try something different. A weaker sort of demon, a _helper_ as Google Translate had provided. Hopefully, this demon wouldn't attack straight away. Hopefully, he'd be able to use it to find Matt and Sam. Hopefully, he could do so without striking some sort of shady deal, since those never ended well if media was to be believed. But if necessary, Shiro would do that, too. 

Once he was sufficiently sure that he'd drawn the summoning circle correctly—and that had been a pain, circles had been hard enough to draw when he'd still had his right hand—Shiro checked his safe guards one last time. 

The additional circle that would keep the summoned demon trapped, unable to leave the circle itself and get near Shiro. The spells he'd spoken before, that were supposed to keep anything from messing with Shiro's mind. The incense he'd bought at the small corner shop down the street, supposedly weakening evil energies. The small charms placed in every corner of the room, another barrier that wouldn't allow the demon to leave or work its magic outside of the room. 

Wouldn't want anyone else to disappear, just because they were in the same house as Shiro at the wrong time, like Sam Holt had. 

Just to be safe, Shiro had texted Pidge that he needed the night to himself. Pidge had developed a habit of checking up on him—as the little sister of his missing best friend, she had for some odd reason made it her personal mission to keep an eye on Shiro. In a way, he was grateful for it. Apart from various cashiers, she was pretty much the only person he'd talked to since being released from the hospital. But he wouldn't let her get caught up in this. He'd get her father and brother back, somehow, and then they could burn the book and forget about magic and demons altogether. 

If his plan worked, that was. 

There was unease twisting in his stomach, but Shiro knew that he had to do this. Whatever happened, he couldn't just give up on his best friend. 

Quietly, he began muttering the spell written in the book. It wasn't a particularly long one, but by the time he finished, his throat felt uncomfortably tight and his breathing was going too fast. 

He looked up at the circle nervously. 

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Shiro was almost willing to believe that maybe this spell wasn’t working. Maybe his trauma counselor had been right and his brain had come up with the convoluted demon story to deal with something horrible that he couldn't explain to himself by other means— 

A person popped into existence in front of him. 

On first instinct, Shiro scrambled back, almost losing his balance with only one arm to brace his weight. 

The person in front of him looked nothing like the monstrous creature that had shown up last time. In fact, they looked pretty normal. A man in his early twenties, just a bit younger than Shiro maybe, with longish black hair, tight black jeans and a black t-shirt. The man's eyes were a stunning purple-gray color and he was admittedly handsome, but he still looked like someone Shiro would walk by on the street without blinking. Like a regular, normal, human guy. 

Except he'd just shown up in Shiro's summoning circle. 

Heavy black eyebrows scrunched together in a frown as the guy took Shiro in. A moment of silence passed between them before the man scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

"Don't give me that look, dude," the guy huffed, his voice smooth and surprisingly pleasant, despite the slight frown on his face. "You're the one who called me here. Let's just get to it—" The man took a step forward, small sparks fizzling up in the air as he tried to step out of the circle. A relieved breath left Shiro's chest as he realized that his first barrier was working and actually keeping the demon trapped. 

The demon, however, did not look happy. 

"What the fuck?" the young man asked, tone half annoyed, half accusing. A pale finger tapped against thin air, feeling out the barrier. The demon's frown intensified. "What's this supposed to be? You know we can't do this if you're keeping me trapped in here, right?" 

Was this demon actually talking about disappearing and maiming people like it was business as usual? Maybe to the demon, it was. Then he was just as cruel and destructive as the last one, despite his misleading appearance. 

Shiro finally shook himself out of his shocked trance. He cleared his throat, scrambling to his feet so he wouldn't have to look up at the demon any longer. 

"You're staying in there," he stated firmly, glad when his voice didn't tremble. "I've called you here because I want something from you." 

"Duh," the demon muttered, not at all impressed if the way he crossed his arms was anything to go by. "Everyone does, genius. So what's your problem? Self-conscious?" The demon leant forward as far as the barrier would allow, lips twitching up into an approximation of a smirk before he gave up on the pretense and his annoyed frown returned. "Don't be, you're really handsome. Honest. Just let me out of here and I'll—" 

"No," Shiro cut him off sharply. As if he would listen to that demon's sweettalking and let him escape the barrier just to get murdered! The demon blinked at him, wide-eyed. The expression was deceptively cute. "I won't fall for your tricks. You're just trying to play me so you can kill me afterwards or do—" 

The demon cut him off with a loud sigh, rolling his eyes. "Ugh. Don't tell me you're one of _those_ assholes? Summoning me just to kill me and _cleanse the world_ or whatever is such a _dick move_ —" 

"What?" Shiro asked, beyond confused. "No, I didn't, I—you're—" 

The demon huffed. "Don't play innocent. I should have seen this coming. Why else would you summon an incubus and then not let me near you if it wasn't because you're some demon-hating fanatic—" 

"You're—I'm—What?" Shiro yelped, feeling like he'd somehow ended up in the wrong scenario. He'd been expecting a demon. A hopefully not violent one, a _helper_ —and okay, yes, in hindsight he could see how Google Translate might have failed him there and how this demon was here to help him with problems of quite a different sort, but this was still—very unexpected. 

"Don't 'what' me," the demon grumbled, cocking his hips to the side. Shiro's eyes defied the direct executive order form his brain and followed the movement. "You're the one who summoned me! Whatever is going on here, it's part of _your_ skeevy little plan, not mine." 

"I'm," Shiro fumbled, his brain still playing catch-up with what had happened so far and now very unhelpfully supplying him with the information that this guy, this very attractive guy who was also a demon, was here to have sex with him. "I didn't plan on getting an incubus?" 

The demon blinked, surprised. Then he groaned, his pretty face scrunching up in exasperation. "Fucking—You're a beginner. I can't believe it. Who the hell messes up something as basic as what kind of demon they summon? That is like, the very first step. How can you fuck that up? How can you fuck up something so basic and still summon _me_? I'm not that low on the list. I'm not high up, but I'm not so low that some fucking beginner, who can't even figure out _what_ he's summoning—" 

"Um," Shiro spoke up to stop the demon from ranting any more, receiving an annoyed glare. 

" _What_ ," the demon hissed sharply. 

Shiro shifted uncomfortably. "So I'm—I didn't plan on summoning an incubus, but maybe you can help me anyway? Drawing that one circle was hard enough and I really don't want to do it a second time." 

The demon's eyebrows rose up high, disbelief clear on his face. 

"I need to find a friend of mine," Shiro went on, voice beseeching. "He disappeared a while ago, about four months, and I—" 

With a click of his tongue, the demon cut him off. "Go to the police. I'm an incubus, you got that, yeah? Unless it involves you, me, and at least one of us getting off, I'm not your guy." 

"The police can't find him. A demon took him," Shiro explained, fingers clenching nervously. If this demon didn't help him, he'd have to take his chances with the next one—the thought alone was enough to make him shudder. 

There was a fair bit of surprise evident in the demon's expression at Shiro's words, but the way his frown deepened was not very promising. Still, despite his obvious annoyance, he seemed to soften up a little. 

"I mean it, I can't help you with that," the demon murmured. "That is deal-making and underground connections and all the sorts of stuff I'm not very good at. Just summon someone else and ask them. Or, you know, maybe don't. You're obviously really bad at this and the next demon might just straight up murder you." 

"The last demon I summoned took two people and my arm, I know this is dangerous," Shiro huffed, feeling the beginnings of panic weighing down on his chest. He couldn't do this again and again and _again_ until he got lucky. "But you haven't tried to kill me yet, so I'm willing to take my chances with you. I know I need some sort of demonic help, or I won't be able to do anything." He took a few steps forward, until his feet were near the barrier circle that kept the demon trapped. "Please, I _have_ to find them." 

"Ugh," the demon muttered, lips pursing in distaste. "Don't do that with your—with your face and your _feelings_ and, gah." He shuddered. 

"Please," Shiro insisted anyway. 

The demon groaned. "Seriously, don't do this. You should give up on your friend—friends?—or summon someone else. That's honestly the best advice I have for you here. I'm an incubus, my magic isn't made for that sort of stuff. It'd take me ridiculous amounts of energy and I have literally no practice at all in that sort of thing and—" 

"But you could do it?" Shiro asked quickly, his heart beginning to beat a little faster with the hope gathering in his chest. 

The demon rolled his eyes at him, again. "Yes, technically, I _could_ ," he huffed, "but as I said, my magic's not made for that, so I'd have to take in a _lot_ of energy to make up for it and then there would still be absolutely no guarantee I'd ever find your friends." 

If it was at all possible, then Shiro definitely wouldn't give up now. "What kind of energy?" 

"I'm an incubus. What do you think?" the demon snorted, cocking his hip further out to the side. 

Shiro felt a soft flush rising to his cheeks, but soldiered on. "How often?" 

The demon's eyes widened, honest surprise on his face. "I can't say for sure. Two to three times a week, maybe," he muttered, sounding as if he was actually contemplating it. 

Was Shiro actually contemplating it? 

He could hardly believe it, but he was. The guy was really attractive, that was no issue. And compared to other things Shiro had imagined himself giving up in a deal to find Matt—his body, his life, his soul—having sex with a handsome demon was really not a bad option. 

"I'm still recovering from—" Shiro moved the stump of his right arm, looking away as embarrassment flushed hotly over his face. "I'm in pain sometimes and not dealing well, so what if I can't always—" he trailed off, hoping the demon would get the meaning. 

"Get it up?" the demon completed, obviously holding no such qualms as Shiro. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Let's say you try and if it doesn't work, I'll just head out and pick up someone else. If we strike a deal, I'll be bound to you, that will make staying in this world way easier for me. I'm willing to agree." 

"So you'll look for my friend? And his father?" Shiro asked hopefully. 

"Yeah," came the not very enthusiastic reply. But it was firm enough, and Shiro would take it. 

"Thank you," he murmured, taking a step back. Then—"What now?" 

"Fucking _beginner_ ," the demon hissed under his breath, then gestured towards the empty space in front of him. "Now you let me out of here, we strike the deal, then get to it." 

"Oh, okay." That sounded simple enough. Now he only had to hope that this demon wasn't tricking him. Hesitantly, Shiro shuffled forward and dragged his socked foot over the outer circle on the floor that held up the barrier, scrubbing away some of the marker. 

There was no visible sign that anything magical had just happened. But then the demon slid forward with an easy movement, right into Shiro's space. 

Two warm hands settled on Shiro's shoulders, pulling him closer to the demon's face. An addicting heat spread out from where the demon was touching him. Shiro felt himself swallow. He wondered if this was some sort of magic or if he was just that starved for physical contact—which admittedly, he probably was. 

"And now?" Shiro asked, a slight tremble taking hold in his voice. 

"Now we seal the deal," the demon said, voice very matter of fact as he leant in close. His hands slid up to the back of Shiro's neck, making his skin tingle. 

"How—?" Shiro didn't even have to finish his question. The demon's steadily approaching lips made it more than obvious that the deal would become official with a kiss— 

"We fuck," the demon stated plainly. 

Oh, okay then. That worked, too. 

"If you want to," the demon tacked on a moment later, after Shiro had failed to move or react in any way. "I think I can work around it if you're really not in the mood." 

Shiro swallowed. After expecting sex, even for just a short moment, it was unexpectedly daunting to be given a _choice_. He appreciated it, of course, especially since he really wasn't sure how far he could go while part of him was still ready to panic at a moment's notice. But getting to decide if he was up for it also meant that if he said 'yes'—it would be because he _wanted_ to. There would be no denying, no pretense that he was only doing it because it was necessary to reach his goal of finding Matt and Sam. 

Something lurched low in his stomach, prickling with heat. The truth was—Shiro did kind of want to. He wasn't usually the type for hook-ups, but this demon was undeniably attractive. Despite being what he was, he looked human enough to put Shiro at ease. And it had been a while for Shiro. A really long while. He missed the close contact and intimacy, be it sex or simply cuddling. 

Not to mention that _this_ —this long pause between them right now, the demon waiting patiently if Shiro was willing to agree, giving him the clear option to back out otherwise—this already did a lot for Shiro. It made him feel like he could trust the demon, even if perhaps he shouldn't. 

A shiver ran through Shiro's body as he made up his mind. This time it felt decidedly different from all the previous shivering tonight. Better. Filled with anticipation. _Promising_. 

He nodded, not quite feeling up to words at the moment, and the demon gave his own curt nod in return. 

"I'm, uh. I'm Shiro, by the way," Shiro managed to get out. He might have been about to have sex with a demon to strike a deal to find his missing friend, but it still felt indecent to do so if said demon didn't even know his name. 

"Keith," the demon answered, an amused quirk to his lips as he looked Shiro straight in the eyes. 

Some part of Shiro's brain, having decided that this situation was too bizarre to deal with, began sorting through inane questions to focus on something else. Questions like if Keith dealt with people as nervous as Shiro a lot. People who embarrassed themselves by exchanging names before having sex to seal magical deals with incubi. And just like the guy's appearance, the name 'Keith' was so very ordinary. Did all demons fit into the two distinct categories of 'really regular people' and 'horrifying purple monster that steals people and limbs'? 

Maybe he could ask. Later. 

After he'd had sex with the incubus. 

Oh, god. Wow. 

"You look way too nervous to do this," the demon pointed out, one brow raised. 

"This is my first time having sex with someone I summoned with a magical book," Shiro explained himself, voice dry. 

The demon—Keith, maybe this would be less weird if he just called the demon Keith—snorted out a chuckle. "Just take a deep breath, relax. C'mon, I even made myself look human. It's just like any other sex you had." 

Keith was actively _making_ himself look human? So he was actually a horrifying purple monster, too? Oh god, Shiro couldn't have sex with a horrifying purple monster. He absolutely could not. The mere idea of it was already too much, the thought wrapping itself around his throat and squeezing down like an icy hand, making it harder to breathe the more he thought about it. 

One of the demon's—One of Keith's warm hands moved down to his chest, resting there with just a bit of pressure. " _Breathe_ ," Keith instructed, voice firmer now. 

Shiro complied before he could think about it, air rushing out of his lungs. Keith's hand moved away just a little bit, finger tips lightly resting against Shiro's chest, and Shiro breathed back in. 

Pressure. Out. 

Away. In. 

"Good," Keith murmured after a few more repetitions, his voice softer than before. 

Shiro kept breathing steadily, a fuzzy warmth spreading out from Keith's hand through his chest, slowly relaxing him. Again, he wondered off-handedly if this was some sort of incubus magic from Keith, and concluded that it most definitely was. He almost complained, but then bit it down—whatever Keith had done, it had successfully prevented him from slipping into hyperventilating. Shiro knew when to be grateful. And he didn't really feel controlled or insanely horny right now, just calmer. It was quite nice, actually. 

"I'm good," Shiro muttered after a few more moments. If he was going to have sex with Keith, it seemed about time to get it over with. 

With a nod, Keith took a step back, hands gesturing towards himself. "Does this work for you?" 

"Huh?" Shiro asked, blinking. Was Keith talking about taking off his clothes? The plain black pants and shirt were doing a great job of showing off Keith's slightly muscular build, but nothing particularly special beyond that. They didn't seem important enough to warrant an explicit opinion from Shiro. Was he missing something? 

Apparently he was, if the way Keith rolled his eyes was anything to go by. The incubus huffed, then squinted at Shiro for a moment. Under the look from those intense purple eyes, Shiro couldn't help but fidget a little. 

He hadn't exactly put any effort into his appearance lately, and even something as simple as taking a shower was challenging. It hadn't been too long since his last one, but he was dressed for sitting inside and hopefully not dying, in a loose pair of sweatpants and a washed out old tee. Was that not fancy enough for magical demon sex? 

Whatever it was about his looks, Keith seemed done with his contemplation of it a few moments later. He snapped his fingers, and instantly the black pants and shirts melted away, leaving Keith in a pair of sweatpants equal to Shiro's instead, his torso left bare. Ignoring how weird it was that Keith could apparently magically change his outfit, Shiro couldn't help but feel like the atmosphere of the room had shifted with Keith's transformation. 

Keith in those comfy sweats looked so—homely. As if he belonged into Shiro's apartment, into Shiro's life. As if they were comfortable around each other, knew each other, as if they were friends or dating, or—as if this wasn't Shiro's first time fucking an incubus, but instead like they had done this before, many times, and there was no reason to be nervous about anything. 

It was oddly relaxing, and at the same time unexpectedly hot. 

Before this whole mess with magic, if Shiro had met Keith somewhere else and Keith wasn't a demon, maybe that was how they would have existed together. A bit of getting to know each other, slowly learning each other's quirks and preferences, and then settling into a casual routine of intimacy where both of them felt at home. Something warm and wanting stirred low in Shiro's belly at the thought. 

The movement of Keith crossing his arms caught Shiro's eye, drawing attention to slightly defined abs and even more defined arms. 

"Good choice?" Keith asked, a hint of teasing to his voice. 

Shiro swallowed, feeling himself nod. 

Keith stepped forward. His hands moved up to the back of Shiro's neck, igniting the same heat there as they had before. "Relax," Keith whispered softly, close enough that Shiro could feel warm air brushing against his lips. "Just do what you feel like, this doesn't have to be strange." 

"Oh no, it definitely _is_ strange," Shiro insisted, deadpan, watching how Keith's lips curled in amusement. He raised his hand, fingers running up Keith's neck before slipping into soft, black hair. 

Justified amount of dry comments aside, he was actually very much on board with Keith's suggestion of not making this strange. He was doing this because—due to a bizarre series of circumstances—it was necessary to find his best friend and said friend's father. But also because he wanted to. This had the potential of being—well, nice. And Shiro could really use something nice in his life right about now. 

Besides, if he stayed this nervous, he doubted that he'd be able to deliver on the sex. Keith had said that they could work around that if necessary, but—now that Shiro had grown comfortable with the idea, he wasn't keen on having to back out. 

Still he jumped when Keith’s hands gently tugged his head down until they were eye to eye. “I mean it,” Keith said firmly, the serious tone of his voice surprising Shiro. “You don’t have to. I can’t make you. Deals don’t work that way and it also happens that I’m not particularly good at the whole—seduction part.” 

Shiro was snorting out a laugh before he could help himself. He _had_ wondered why an incubus would look so grumpy all the time, except for when Shiro made particularly dry jokes. 

At least Keith didn’t look _that_ offended by his stifled chuckling. “Guys are usually already in the mood by the time they resort to summoning me,” Keith defended himself indignantly. “Technically, this isn’t even a part of my job. I make hard-ons go away, I don’t _cause_ them.” 

Shiro’s barely-concealed wheezing laugh became even harder to conceal. “Oh my god,” he wheezed out, “you’re not kidding. You really _are_ bad at this.” 

“You’re not helping,” Keith huffed, lips approaching something like a pout, which was—well, cute, but somehow also slid right past sexy. Shiro couldn’t believe it. 

Out of all his sexual experiences, this one was the most surreal, and it wasn’t even because Keith was a demon. 

“At least you don’t look like you’ll pass out anymore,” Keith grumbled, jabbing a finger into Shiro’s cheek. Shiro wanted to grab it and pull it out of his face, but then remembered that his corresponding arm wasn’t there anymore. And there went his good mood. 

But _no_. He wanted this to be something nice, and he would damn well have it. 

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he gathered his courage and leant in. Keith seemed surprised by the sudden change, but went along easily enough, tilting his head as Shiro brought their mouths together in a kiss. 

It was hot. In a very literal, hot-as-in-temperature like sense. Keith's skin was incredibly warm to the touch—his lips, his chest, and his hands that were no longer poking at Shiro’s face but instead wandering down his back. Shiro's skin was tingling everywhere they touched, the heat radiating off of Keith rapidly spreading through his own body in waves. 

Keith gasped softly against his mouth, and Shiro tightened his grip on Keith's hair, pulling him in closer. Keith had closed his eyes at some point, and somehow it made everything better, less strange. Just like the sweatpants riding low on Keith's hips, it fit with the image of Keith belonging here, of this being something regular. Like Keith was a regular person and they were doing this for regular purposes, like both of them enjoying it. 

A small voice in the back of Shiro's head pointed out how maybe he should be concerned, that it was incredibly suspicious how Keith seemed to know exactly what to do to put Shiro at ease, to have Shiro relax and let down his guard. But it was quickly drowned out by the blistering heat of Keith's mouth as he opened it up for Shiro's tongue to explore. All strangeness aside, this did feel really good. 

By the time they pulled away from each other, they were both out of breath, and Shiro was sure that the flush on his cheeks had to match the one he was seeing on Keith's. 

Keith licked his lips, a slight smile on his face. "That was nice," he purred contently, his expression soft and relaxed. Then he added on, “At least one of us can be sexy.” 

Shiro burst out into a chuckle at the same time as he felt his heart stutter. Were incubi supposed to be this sweet and playful? At this point, it was virtually impossible to reconcile Keith with any sort of demon. Even if this was just an act to make Shiro less nervous—it was a damn good one. Shiro was absolutely willing to go along with it. 

"Kiss me again?" Keith asked, eyes hopeful, voice a bit raspy, and Shiro dove forward instantly, kissing Keith with more fervor than before. 

Keith moaned quietly, spurring Shiro on. He traced his hand down Keith's back hungrily, then back up the front, taking in all the curves and dips, the soft skin. He brushed his thumb over one of Keith's nipples, delighted at the breathy, louder noise it got him, the soft shudder running through Keith's frame. Keith moved even closer, making it harder for Shiro to explore his chest, but there was warm skin pressing against his crotch now, a hardness digging into his thigh, and that more than made up for the chest he couldn't touch anymore. 

In fact, as Keith's hips continued to wiggle against him, Shiro could feel himself getting hard. It felt significant, somehow, and he was faintly aware that with everything that had happened, it had been months since he'd last gotten off. But that didn't matter now, so long as he didn't come embarrassingly quick. There were better things to focus on than that concern. 

Keith pulled away from the kiss with a wet sound, moving on to pepper open-mouthed kisses down Shiro's throat. Shiro groaned as dull teeth dug into his skin. His own hand slipped over Keith's neck, up into soft black hair to hold him close and hopefully keep Keith going. When Keith bit down on a particularly sensitive spot, Shiro groaned and shivered, fingers going tight in Keith’s hair. He didn’t expect the throaty moan that pulled from Keith, but it had him tugging again, pulling Keith lower. 

There was heat growing low in Shiro's belly, spreading out through his body and lighting up his nerves. Everything became a little hazy, a little better, and he relaxed into the sensations. With Keith's fingers digging into his back, Keith's hips rolling against his own, Keith's mouth working marks into every bit of skin he could reach, from Shiro’s throat steadily down his chest, everything was turning into one addicting mix that was steadily drowning out all of his worries. 

Shiro couldn’t resist anymore and gently pulled Keith sideways. Keith grinned up at him for a second, cheeky and knowing, before he followed the movement and closed his mouth over Shiro’s nipple. Shiro didn’t bother to hide his whine. Keith’s mouth was hot and wet, tongue and teeth working over the sensitive nub until Shiro’s knees felt weak. 

He wondered where else he could pull Keith. He wanted him lower, on his cock and maybe even— 

Keith’s hands grabbed his ass, giving it a firm squeeze, and Shiro’s mouth dropped open in a gasp. He reflexively let go of Keith’s hair, before he could accidentally pull too hard and hurt him. 

Keith promptly used the opportunity to slip out of Shiro’s reach. But not away, as Shiro feared for a moment. Keith’s hands stayed firmly on his ass as the demon dropped down to his knees. The teasing grin on his face had the heat in Shiro's lower belly spiking even more. 

"This okay?" Keith murmured, lips pink and wet as he nuzzled the crease where Shiro's thigh met his body. 

Even with his pants still on, Shiro had to fight down a moan at the sight alone. His mind was hazy with want, and so he needed a moment to work up to expressing exactly how okay this was. His fingers twitched uselessly, itching to bury themselves in Keith's hair again and just pull Keith where he wanted him. He wondered if Keith would let him. Keith's smile steadily softened while Shiro struggled for words. 

"It's good," Shiro got out eventually, unable to look away from where Keith was kneeling in front of him. "Could you—uh, use your mouth?" 

"Sure," Keith hummed, his smile still soft, but something hungry and wanting in his eyes. 

He moved up to press a kiss below Shiro's navel, then slowly made his way down. Very slowly. His fingers were still firmly digging into Shiro's ass, encouraging Shiro's hips to twitch forward—which they did, much to Shiro's embarrassment. Every time Keith squeezed his ass or sucked on his skin on the way downwards, Shiro was rocking forward with impatience and want, like some horny teenager. When had he lost control over the situation like this? 

Keith lingered above his sweatpants for what felt like forever. When he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers, Shiro was fully hard and letting out a sigh of relief. His underwear had been getting uncomfortably tight. It would have been awkward, the way Keith was now eyeing his erection, if not for the obvious desire in Keith's expression, the way he licked his lips. Shiro swallowed. 

With another grin up at him, Keith leant forward—and then bypassed his cock completely in favor of kissing Shiro’s thigh. Shiro grunted in frustration and all it did was make Keith chuckle. “You’re not very patient, huh?” Keith teased, and Shiro’s fingers were itching to slip into Keith’s hair again. To pull Keith back in and end this drawn-out torture. 

“Not right now,” he gritted out instead. “I—Keith—” 

Keith cut him off with a knowing chuckle. “There something you want?” he asked, not even trying to sound innocent. He squeezed Shiro’s ass again, licking his lips. The grin he shot up at Shiro was all teeth and challenge. “Then go ahead and take it.” 

Shiro wasn’t sure what it said about himself that it only took a short moment of parsing through what Keith had just said—allowed him, straight up _told_ him to do—before his hand was curling into Keith’s hair again. He was still careful not to be too rough, but he was more impatient now than he had been before, and Keith looked delighted when Shiro pulled him forward. 

This time, Shiro didn’t let Keith sneak off to the side, and Keith went along easily, mouth already open. With Keith right in front of his dick, hot breath fanning over him, Shiro hesitated again. He didn’t want to take things too fast for Keith, and there was no need to become uncaring just because his partner was a literal sex demon this time, and maybe Keith wanted a moment to prepare himself mentally— 

Shiro’s thoughts abruptly stuttered to a halt as Keith placed a wet kiss on the tip of his cock. Okay, so maybe Keith didn’t want a moment, and—oh. Keith was glancing up at him again, something devious in his eyes, and then he was sucking the head of Shiro’s cock into his mouth in one smooth move. Shiro let out a strangled breath, veering off into a moan as Keith steadily took in even more. 

The incredible heat of Keith's mouth was mind-numbing, too much and not enough all at once, and before Shiro knew it he was pulling on Keith’s hair again, forward, dragging Keith’s mouth further down onto his cock. And Keith let it happen, a soft moan tumbling from his throat, thrumming around Shiro. Shiro was gasping and whining helplessly, and then Keith began to _move_. 

Apparently, Keith had never heard of taking things slow, or maybe incubi were just supposed to be overwhelmingly good at giving head—or maybe Keith was just more talented at this than at seducing people—but either way, Keith's mouth felt incredible. He was swallowing down Shiro's entire length, dragging his tongue along it every time he moved back. There was the occasional hint of teeth, barely there but still present enough to send shivers down Shiro's spine. The wet drag of Keith's tongue had Shiro shaking, a molten heat rolling through him and quickly bringing him closer to the edge. 

Then Keith looked up at him, their eyes meeting. With unflinching eye contact, Keith _sucked_ —and Shiro only barely stopped himself from coming right then and there. He tugged at Keith’s hair until his cock slipped out of that sinfully hot mouth. Just a moment, he needed just a moment to breathe and then they could go on without Shiro coming embarrassingly soon— 

Keith whined and Shiro’s gaze snapped down, worried that he had pulled too hard. A grave mistake. 

Keith was staring up at him with glassy eyes, cheeks flushed, and his mouth looking _ruined_. His lips were swollen and red, drool running down his chin, and _fuck_ , Shiro had done that to him. 

Straining against the hold Shiro had on his hair, Keith leant forward, tongue lolling out to lick at the tip of Shiro’s cock again, impatient, like he couldn’t wait. “C’mon,” Keith slurred out, sounding as wrecked as he looked. The most pathetic sound slipped from Shiro’s mouth in response, and it had Keith’s lips stretching into a shark-like grin. “Don’t hold back on me. Want you to fuck my mouth.” Shiro’s cock twitched, and Keith happily leant in to drag his tongue over it again. 

“Fuck,” was all Shiro could gasp out, “ _Keith_ —” 

Keith made another impatient, wanting sound, and actually, yeah. Shiro didn’t have the patience for this, either. He held on tightly to Keith’s hair as he rocked his hips forward, into Keith’s waiting mouth. The wet heat surrounding him was just as overwhelming as before, blood rushing in Shiro’s ears along with Keith’s pleased moan. Shiro could only thrust forward, not thinking, chasing his pleasure, Keith’s greedy hands on his ass still egging him on. 

He was panting, desperate, eyes fixed on Keith’s red face and the way spit was dripping down his chin, tongue dragging out every time to follow after Shiro’s cock like Keith just couldn’t get enough. It was amazing, and Shiro never wanted it to stop, and he was nearing his limit much too soon. "I'm—" was all he got out, voice tight. 

Keith moaned encouragingly, swallowing down his cock again. He was looking up, lips tugging up into a smirk despite how wrecked he looked, and just like that Shiro's orgasm crashed down over him. He groaned weakly, hips rocking forward with stuttering movements as pleasure sparked through his whole body and drowned out everything else. 

Keith was swallowing around him, drinking everything down, and pulling back only when Shiro gave a soft noise of protest, growing too sensitive. 

As soon as Keith's warmth faded away, an unexpected wave of exhaustion hit Shiro. His legs felt so shaky that he was concerned they would give out under him. It took him a moment to make his hand release the death grip it had on Keith’s hair, and only then he noticed how much his fingers ached. 

He opened his mouth to apologize, but when he looked down at the sharp, satisfied grin on Keith's lips, it sent shivers down his spine. The good kind. 

Keith wiped away some of the mess, and despite the obvious bulge in his own sweatpants, stayed right where he was. "Good?" he asked. His voice was scratchy, and Shiro had to swallow down another groan. 

He nodded, feeling a bit dazed. Even Keith’s voice sounded ruined. Shiro really felt like he should apologize for that. He stretched out his aching fingers, running them gently over the soft skin of Keith's throat. 

Keith trembled under his touch, brows unexpectedly scrunching together in discomfort, and Shiro made an instinctive move to pull back—but it was impossible. All of a sudden, it felt as if his hand was stuck to Keith's skin. 

Inky black color spread out from Shiro's fingers, wrapping around Keith's throat like a living tattoo, going all the way around. Keith winced as the ring closed, melting into his skin. 

The instant it was done, Shiro could finally move his hand away, pulling it back against his chest. "What—" he tried to ask, but words wouldn't come. He felt even more sluggish than before, the tiredness that was weighing him down seeming to grow stronger by the second. 

" _Ouch_. No one told me it would sting like this to close a deal," Keith muttered to himself, thoroughly ignoring Shiro's question and hissing quietly as he brushed his fingers over the newly formed ring. It almost looked like a collar. 

Shiro couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. It seemed fairly obvious that he had caused this, even though he hadn't had any idea something like this would happen. 

He swayed on his legs, and Keith hurriedly grabbed his hips to steady him. 

"You haven't—" Shiro mumbled his next question, gesturing towards Keith's barely concealed erection. Keeping his eyes open was getting oddly difficult. 

"I only need _you_ to enjoy this, it’s not about me," Keith said, as if it explained anything. Did it? Shiro wasn't actually sure at the moment. It kind of sounded like it made sense. Did that mean Keith wasn't interested in getting off at all? 

That kind of clashed with the image Shiro had of incubi. But he had a feeling that a lot of his expectations about demons would have to be updated, with Keith around. 

Keith was getting to his feet now, and only when his arms wrapped around Shiro's chest did he notice that he was still swaying, even worse than before. 

Opening his eyes after blinking was becoming harder and harder. He felt so—tired. 

He yawned, and after that only managed to open his eyes halfway. The world around him was hazy. He blinked again, slowly. His eyelids were impossibly heavy. He closed his eyes, and opening them once more just wasn't happening. 

"It's okay," Keith murmured softly, somewhere close to Shiro's ear. There were more words, something about deals and taking energy and "I have no idea what I'm doing", but Shiro was too tired to focus on any of it. 

With this strange exhaustion weighing him down, he sunk down into sleep easily. For the first time since his cursed first attempt at summoning, there were no nightmares haunting him.


	2. Tip 02 — Don't leave magical artefacts unsupervised, they'll stir up trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could Shiro say, in a tactful and sane way, "Hey, Pidge, I actually remember some things from that night your father and brother disappeared. Me and Matt summoned a demon, so those are real. I know, I was surprised, too. Also, Keith is a demon as well, but I still had sex with him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that somehow this pwp work got away from me and is all plot now? Yeah, there isn't even any smut in this chapter or the next. Prepare instead for World Building™ and a few more characters showing up!
> 
> Huge shout out to everyone who read the last chapter, commented, bookmarked or left kudos! I love all 53 of you with all my heart. Have a great life, find happiness, and please stick around, all of you are awesome! ;D

Shiro woke up to the completely unbearable sound of his doorbell. He had hated obnoxious blaring ever since he'd first moved into this apartment. It was the kind of noise so ugly and loud that it made his fire alarm sound downright pleasant.

Hearing it now had him jumping up into sitting, completely disoriented as his mind tried to catch up to his suddenly wide-awake body. He blinked a few times, eyes burning, slowly taking in how cold he was and that he was—on the floor? Why the hell had he been sleeping on the floor?

"Oh, you're finally awake," a somewhat familiar voice drawled to his side, startling Shiro so badly that he almost lost his balance with how fast he turned towards it. Keith was sprawled out on the ground next to him, still wearing the sweat pants from the night before. The demon looked unsettled by the abysmal blaring of the doorbell as well.

"What—" Shiro looked around, feeling as if he was walking a few steps behind the rest of the world. He was still in the room where he had summoned Keith the night before, but now the sun was lighting up the walls. He could faintly remember what had happened before falling asleep, how an unexpected tiredness had pulled him in after he'd come. It seemed that he had just passed out right where he was.

There was an odd feeling of exhaustion in his muscles, similar to the ache after a hard workout. But surprisingly, despite that, he felt more rested than he had in months. Like he had actually gotten some sleep for once—and he had. He couldn't even remember having any nightmares this time. Was that because of Keith?

"You're still here," Shiro pointed out, somewhat surprised. His gaze fell back to Keith after looking around, getting caught on the black collar-like tattoo that still curled around the demon's throat.

Keith shrugged. "Well, yeah. A certain _someone_ put so much barrier magic on this room that I can't leave anymore. So, y'know, feel free to take that down any time, if you want me to get started on finding your friends."

"Uhm... oops?" Shiro smiled with sheepish embarrassment. "I'll get right to that, then—"

He jumped as the deafening wail of his doorbell sounded again, followed by loud knocking against his door.

"Shiro!" Pidge's muffled voice called out. "Open up! I know you're in there because you never fucking _leave_!"

Shiro winced as each word was underlined by angry knocks. Just how long had he been asleep if Pidge was resorting to showing up in person?

"Wow, I really hope that's not your girlfriend, or this is going to get very awkward," Keith muttered, propping up his chin on his hand.

"She's not—We're not—" Shiro fumbled before giving up with a huff. He clambered to his feet and pulled up his own sweatpants as far as they would comfortably go. "You're a demon and we had weird demon sex and I gave you a weird demon sex tattoo. It's already awkward."

"Maybe to you. Weird demon sex is kind of my job," Keth shrugged. He jumped to his feet as Shiro hurried towards his apartment door, but stopped short of following Shiro out of the room. "Hey, wait—"

Belatedly, Shiro realized that Keith was still trapped—apparently, some of his safety measures were really effective, wow—but Pidge was hammering against his door again as if she was trying to knock it down. In a split-second decision, Shiro came to the conclusion that preserving his front door took priority, and pulled it open.

"Ah, he lives!" Pidge called out, glaring at him from behind her glasses as she marched in. "I've been trying to reach you for hours! What the hell have you been doing?"

"Um," Shiro glanced back towards the—for a lack of a better term—summoning room, unsure how to explain the events of last night. He had never told Pidge about the whole 'your father and brother were abducted by demons' thing. It had seemed just too bizarre for anyone to believe him.

Explaining it now would definitely be uncomfortable.

Then again, things were already fairly weird, especially as Pidge followed Shiro's look and caught sight of Keith, who barely peeked out of the room, still half naked.

"Seriously?" Pidge hissed, whirling around to face Shiro with anger blazing in her eyes. "You make me worry about you while you're having an extended hook-up with—" she took a few steps forward, peering into the room that was still mostly equipped for a night of demon summoning, "—this guy and some really—what the _fuck_ is that, Shiro?" She turned back towards him, wide-eyed. "Seriously, what the fuck?"

"I hear it's unpopular these days to kink shame," Keith pointed out, seemingly unperturbed as Pidge's unbelieving eyes fell on him. He waved at her, expression not giving anything away. "Hi, I'm Keith."

"Pidge." She imitated the wave hesitantly, the motion stiff as her eyes roamed over the room once more. Slowly, she shook her head. "I have so many questions, and I don't want any of them answered."

"Fair enough," Keith muttered and shrugged. He sent a questioning look towards Shiro.

Shiro would have preferred Keith hadn't, because he very much wanted to pretend that he wasn't here and that this wasn't happening right now.

As Pidge's judging gaze fell back to him, he faintly remembered asking her to go grocery shopping with him today. He'd kept his fridge relatively empty, so there wouldn't have been a lot to dispose of in case his summoning attempts ended in disaster once more and he died. That explained her insistence at getting in touch with him. And since he was still alive, he did have to get groceries now.

But more importantly, with Keith here, proving that Shiro had not merely hallucinated the whole demon thing—Pidge deserved to know the truth.

Shiro rubbed his hand down his face, groaning. This day was off to a horrible start and he blamed it all on that awful doorbell. He wanted to go back to sleep. Not put up with— _this_.

How could he say, in a tactful and sane way, "Hey, Pidge, I actually remember some things from that night your father and brother disappeared. Me and Matt summoned a demon, so those are real. I know, I was surprised, too. Also, Keith is a demon as well, but I still had sex with him."

"So, uh, Shiro—" Pidge started off carefully. "Now that I know you're still alive, should I come back later... Leave you and Keith to—some alone time?" Her lip curled in something between disgust and teasing. Shiro guessed he fully deserved to have that kind of expression directed at him.

"No, actually," Shiro cleared his throat, nervously shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. He tried crossing his arms, then gave up on that with a huff when he remembered that he couldn't. That didn't work with only one arm and he didn't have a second one anymore, right. "I'm—there's something you should know."

Pidge's brows rose up until they disappeared beneath her soft brown bangs. "I assure you, I don't want to hear _anything_ about what you were up to last night."

"No, hear me out," Shiro waved her off, fumbling under her obvious confusion. "It's not about last night. Or, technically, it is, but mostly it's about—that night. When we lost them."

The shift in atmosphere that settled over the room was instant. Pidge's eyes narrowed, something hard and stony settling in her expression. Shiro steeled himself for what he'd have to say next, as Keith cautiously shrunk a few steps back.

"Don't you think your one-night stand should leave for this?" Pidge asked, voice tense.

Shiro shook his head. "No, he—" he turned towards Keith, making sure he had the demon's attention, "— _you_ should stay for this." He focused back on Pidge, taking a deep breath and soldiering on. "Pidge, I—I haven't been entirely honest with you up till now. The truth is, I have an idea what happened to Matt and Sam. And Keith is going to help us get them back."

Finally out, the words hung in the air for several moments. They seemed to linger, almost tangible. Shiro could feel them like a physical presence as he looked at Pidge, at the way her face paled and her eyes narrowed into slits.

"What," she hissed, the suppressed fury in her words cutting like a knife, "do you mean?" She took a slow step forward, and Shiro backed away. "You know something? You knew something, this entire time, and you left me in the dark?!"

With Pidge's eyes boring right through him, brimming with unshed tears, Shiro panicked. And so, he promptly blurted out the truth. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you that they were abducted by demons!" He just couldn't seem to stop himself, even as shock and disbelief took over Pidge's face. He pointed towards Keith. "He's also a demon, and he's going to find them."

"I thought I made it sufficiently clear that I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing," Keith muttered, crossing his arms.

Pidge's wide eyes snapped from Shiro over to him. "You're both kidding me," she said tonelessly.

Keith rolled his eyes. With a sigh, he snapped his fingers—and suddenly sported pointed ears, a pair of red horns, and black bat-like wings. "Ta-da," he drawled, voice completely flat as he held out his arms, "demon."

Shiro’s jaw dropped open along with Pidge's. Was _this_ what Keith truly looked like?

"What the fuck," Pidge whispered under her breath. "What the fuck what the fuck _what the fuck_ —"

Keith's ears, horns, and wings poof-ed away a moment later. He crossed his arms again, looking half-annoyed and half-amused. "Okay, glad we could get that settled. Magic is real, bla bla. Back to topic—I think we were at Shiro telling you that he knew what happened to—uh, _’Matt and Sam’_ all along?"

Shiro shot the incubus a betrayed look. It seemed that was what he got for siding with a demon—getting stabbed in the back.

Pidge was still staring at the both of them, shell-shocked.

Then, a sudden jolt went through her frame. Shiro took a reflexive step forward, afraid that she was fainting and he'd have to catch her. But instead, Pidge straightened up, a manic gleam now shining in her eyes.

"We can find them?" she asked, not giving either of them a chance to answer before she nodded decisively to herself. "We can find them. Shiro, you absolute bastard, don't think I've forgiven you but this takes priority. How can I help, demon guy?"

Keith shrugged. "I don't know. Finally telling me something or releasing me from this room might be a good first step."

"Uh—of course," Shiro stammered, glancing around nervously. "The thing is, I set up a lot of stuff and I'm not sure what's actually working..." He trailed off as he saw the annoyed twitch of Keith's eyebrow.

The incubus took a visibly deep breath, not-so-quietly hissed "Fucking beginner" under his breath, then pointed towards the corners of the room. "I'm pretty sure the barrier is held up by whatever's over there."

Obediently, Shiro trudged over to the corner closest to the door. He pulled out one of the charms he'd bought in preparation at the corner shop down the street—a set of four, one in each corner of the room, meant to hold back evil energies. They looked rather cheap and tacky, small pieces of dark green fabric embroidered with gold, the sort of which tourists liked to drag around. Apparently though, these were the real deal, judging by the way Keith's nose scrunched up.

"Yeah, those. By moving this one you should have disrupted the barrier already." Keith took a daring step forward, and before Shiro could even call out a warning to be careful, the demon had already slipped out of the room. "Ah, finally," he sighed, stretching his arms up into the air as if he hadn't been able to move inside the room at all.

Meanwhile, Shiro tried to slow down his now rapidly beating heart. There was no reason to be this worked up over something so harmless, he told himself. Nothing bad could have happened. At worst Keith would have hit his head or something—nothing serious. No reason to be upset. No reason to be worried...

"So, how exactly is this going to work?" Pidge asked curiously, pulling him out of his thoughts. Mustering Keith critically, she crossed her arms. "Are you really able to find my family?"

"No idea yet," Keith answered, noncommittal. As Pidge's eyes bore into him with disbelief and rage, he backed away one step, raising his hands in defense. "I've told your friend _several times_ , this isn't exactly my area of expertise. I will try my best, I will collect my payment, and that is all I can do."

"Fine," Pidge muttered, pursing her lips in frustration. "But how does any of it _work_?"

"I'm not telling you that," Keith huffed. "Information has a _price_ and I'm not nearly powerful enough to hand shit out for free."

"Well, I won't fuck you like Shiro apparently does, I'm too gay for that," Pidge growled.

"I'm too gay for you, too," Keith shot back.

For a moment, they glared at each other in silence. Shiro began fearing the worst before they both broke out into matching grins.

"I like you," Pidge snickered, her aggressive stance loosening and melting into something more relaxed.

"I don't hate you, but I'm still not telling you shit," Keith said, looking as if he was caught between amusement and trying to appear stern.

Pidge, much to Shiro's worry, did not look the least bit concerned. "I'll figure something out," she stated, voice as calm as if it was an irrefutable fact. Knowing Pidge, it was.

Keith, not yet used to the sheer strength of will Pidge possessed, gave Shiro a frazzled look. Shiro just shrugged his shoulders. Hell if he knew.

"So, back to topic. Shiro has to tell you—and me, since apparently he's been feeding me lies all this time—what happened, right? So you can get going already?" Pidge picked the conversation back up. Shiro shrunk down under the accusation lacing her tone.

He was never going to live this down, was he?

To be fair, he was pretty sure he deserved it.

"Well," he started hesitantly, only to stop himself and intently gaze at the wall next to him. He knew he had to tell them. Keith needed to know so he could help. Pidge _deserved_ to know. Shiro knew it had been coming. Keith and Pidge both needed to hear every detail Shiro could offer.

But to remember that night?

The thought crawled through his body like ice, settling around his chest as a tight band, steadily squeezing down the more he tried to recall what had happened. He clenched his fists and was all too aware of how only one hand reacted.

He closed his eyes. The faint echo of pain was pulsing through his mind, through his body, at the point where his right arm ended. It was healed off now, he knew that. Rationally, he knew that. But he could still feel the excruciating pain there, could smell the iron in the air, feel his blood sticking to his side where it was—

"Shiro," a voice muttered.

As Shiro sucked in a breath, the sharp smell of iron was replaced by something much sweeter, more alluring. All of a sudden, the tight panic was gone, his chest light, a happy and slightly dizzy feeling clouding his mind. He opened his eyes and saw Keith standing right in front of him. Every time the demon breathed out, a slight tremor in the air weaved its way from plush lips towards Shiro's face. Shiro couldn't make it out clearly, but it felt good.

It _made_ him feel good. Calm. Floaty.

Safe.

"Relax," Keith said, each syllable like a caress against Shiro's skin. Shiro shuddered, wanting to comply with the request so badly and delighted when his body did so on its own.

"What the fuck are you doing?" someone else asked, bewildered and fascinated all at once. It took Shiro a very long moment to register the sound as Pidge's voice.

"Calming him down," Keith answered, the words smooth like velvet. Shiro wished the incubus would talk more, and luckily he did. "I usually don't use my magic for _this_ , but it seems to work."

Now that Shiro focused on thinking about it, it quickly became obvious. Keith was using his magic to do this to him—making everything nice and pleasant and floaty.

Shiro wondered if he should be upset, but then again, he felt so _good_ right now. Nothing hurt. Nothing seemed unreasonably dangerous to him. Keith looked really good. Keith was preventing him from panicking. With dubious demon magic. Should Shiro be upset? But Keith looked so hot. The black collar around his throat, Shiro's mark on him, stood out against his pale skin. Shiro’s claim. Shiro wanted to leave more marks on that perfect throat, put his lips there and—

"I think you're relaxed enough now," Keith hissed, a strained crease on his forehead.

The pleasant daze lifted from Shiro's head like a curtain, and just like that the world was crisp and clear again. The change was so sudden that Shiro found himself swaying, both Keith and Pidge jumping forward to steady him.

"What—" he stuttered, looking at the two of them as they gave him a bit more room again.

"Magic," was all the answer Keith gave. "I can pull you back if you slip away again, but—maybe don't, yeah?"

"Uh-huh," Shiro agreed dumbly, shaking his head in an attempt to get things back in order. "Can you—Is that safe?"

"I can't use it against you if that's what you're asking," Keith grumbled defensively, crossing his arms. "It only works if you want it to. You wanted to relax, otherwise you wouldn't have. And I can't do much more than that."

"That is so cool," Pidge muttered under her breath.

"Okay." Shiro nodded hesitantly. It wasn't quite what he'd meant to ask, and he wasn't sure if Keith was telling the truth—but for the moment he had to rely on that. If Keith wanted to harm him, Shiro had much bigger issues than relaxing against his will. "So..."

"You were about to tell us about that night. How my family disappeared," Pidge helpfully supplied.

Shiro already felt tension drawing his shoulders back up, the familiar curl of unease in his gut. But this time, it didn't feel as intense and stifling as before. Almost as if there was still some of that floaty happiness from before left over, keeping everything negative at bay. If only for the moment.

Shiro took a deep breath. The sooner he could get this over with, the better.

"So," he began, nervously twisting his fingers. It was awkward with only one hand to do it. "Matt found this—magical book. Or, he claimed it was. I didn't actually believe him until we—until things went wrong. He wanted to try one of the spells just for fun, and I agreed—I didn't think anything would actually happen. We picked the spell with the easiest circle and incantation and just went for it. It all seemed harmless and fun until one moment after the spell this—this _thing_ showed up."

Shiro hesitated. The memory was still all too vivid in his mind, especially now that he was actively trying to recall it. A shiver went down his spine, cold sweat clinging to his skin. The same debilitating fear from that night was seeping out of his memories, into the present. Clenching his fists—one fist—he went on.

"It looked like a monster, large with purple fur and glowing eyes. They were—yellow or maybe red, I don’t remember. Its left arm was different somehow, even bigger and stronger with sharp claws. It came after Matt and I was—I was trying to help, I think—"

_Matt was screaming, terrified, and Shiro struggled to move his body, every limb stiff and shaky with fear. Those awful yellow eyes, empty and soulless, settled on him and the beast jumped forward. Its huge left arm lashed out at him, giant claws coming at his face. Shiro jumped back, raising his right arm in defense._

"It lashed out at me, and I—"

_There was a disconnect, a moment of time lost to him, and then he was lying on the floor. His mind was screaming in pain, so sharp and all-consuming that he couldn't even tell where it was coming from at first._

"I—"

_Black spots were dotting his vision and he struggled to make out what was happening. Why was the floor taking up so much of what he saw? Where was all that blood coming from? Who was screaming so loudly, one voice terrified and sobbing, the other hoarse and choking? Why was breathing so hard?_

Breathe. He had to breathe.

_Sweat and blood were clinging to his face, and even more blood was spreading over the floor now, seeping into his clothes. Despite the agony in his upper arm, his right hand didn't hurt at all and Shiro tried to move it. He wasn't quite sure if it did. Why couldn't he feel it?_

"I-I—"

_He could finally suck in a sharp breath, and one of the screaming voices went quiet. It took him much too long to realize that apparently, it had been him. His eyes moved slowly, sluggish, everything strangely blurry between the growing black spots. He could make out Matt, who looked so small held up in the giant paw of that monster. And there was an arm, lying just in front of him, looking so familiar— Realization hit him and something lurched painfully in Shiro's gut._

"Shiro," someone said, sounding oddly far away. Still Shiro forced himself to focus on it, on the mop of brown hair and worried eyes.

"It took Matt," he got out, somehow. "Apparently it took Sam, too. I blacked out after I got hurt, I don't know what else happened—" He was breathing too fast, painfully fast, but he couldn't quite stop it. "I can't—I don't remember anything else. It all happened so fast, I don't—"

"I'm so sorry." Pidge sounded choked up, her eyes swimming in held-back tears.

Keith reached out towards him, a questioning look in his eyes, and Shiro nodded as soon as he could get his stiff neck to move, the motion jerky and short. Keith closed his eyes in concentration, and then something blurry rose from his lips once more, fluttering through the air. As it hit Shiro, it smelled sweet and tempting, and immediately drew him in so deep that nothing dark could follow.

Shiro sighed with relief, slumping forward.

Even though he seemed strained, Keith was still so beautiful to look at, purple eyes sparkling as they opened. Shiro reached out to cup his face, disappointed when only one of his hands could feel the warm, soft skin.

Someone fake-coughed very loudly.

Guiltily, Shiro looked over at Pidge, who he had somehow forgotten was still in the room. Odd how that had happened. Pidge's accusing eyes bore into him, full of reproach. Still Shiro didn't want to let go of Keith. Keith was so _great_ and nice and pretty. Keith always was, but now that Shiro felt so safe and untethered, he could finally indulge in that, could finally allow himself to notice how handsome the incubus was. He stepped closer to Keith, drawing in deep breaths of that pleasant, relaxing aroma, softly nuzzling the black hair—

"Okay, yeah, that should do it," Keith blurted out loudly, stepping back. Just like that, the dizzy happiness faded away to nothing but a pale afterthought, allowing the remnants of fear to claw their way back into Shiro's mind. But they weren't as strong as before, and Shiro was glad to let reality take up most of his mind once again.

His eyes were still drawn to Keith. The demon was just as attractive before, but now that Shiro wasn't completely relaxed and free of worry anymore, he couldn't help but notice that Keith seemed exhausted. The incubus was breathing heavily, brows knit together tightly as he crossed his arms and tried to appear unaffected. He scoffed as he realized that Shiro was eyeing him. "What?" he asked sharply, a challenge in his tone and the way he cocked his hips to the side.

"Nothing." Shiro took a step back, shifting uneasily. Had he done something to offend the demon? It was probably awkward to him, witnessing Shiro's and Pidge's emotional exchange. And calming Shiro down seemed to demand a lot of strength from him. It was necessary to get the information out of Shiro and to fulfill their deal, but probably not something the demon liked to do. Shiro cleared his throat. "Does that help? Anything about what I told you? Do you think you can find them?"

With an unhappy purse to his lips, the demon shrugged. "Don't know that yet. There's a lot of folks going purple and all demons have yellow eyes—" Shiro shuddered involuntarily at the mental image of Keith with those same soulless eyes staring at him—"so that's not exactly a very specific description. The weird arm might help some, though. I'll ask around."

"Thank you." Shiro wasn't sure what else to say. He didn’t know what to expect, didn't quite dare to hope that everything would be okay now. Would Keith be successful? Could they even trust this incubus?

Doubting Keith didn't really seem fair at this point. The demon had done so much for him already, pulling Shiro out of his panic every time it grew too strong. Not to mention that he was fairly attractive and—they would have sex again, right? Regularly?

Shiro felt both anxious and hopeful about that. So much might go wrong, but so much good could come of it. He didn't know how to put any of it into words that this strange, helpful demon would understand.

"Good luck," Pidge wished the incubus. With a teasing smile, she added on, "I'll figure out how to squeeze some information out of you in the meantime."

"Uh—sure." Keith's uneasy glance towards Shiro quite clearly stated _'Is she serious? She looks serious??'_

Shiro shrugged. This involved Pidge's family and a whole new world of information. Pidge was definitely serious.

Keith looked even more concerned by that. But he quickly collected himself and, with a snap of his fingers, had his sweatpants shifting into the black jeans and shirt with which he had arrived in Shiro's apartment. Pidge's eyes went wide as saucers at that, and Shiro couldn't help but smile.

"I'll be back in a few hours." Keith gave both of them a long look. His brows furrowed, and though his expression was hard to read, Shiro thought he looked oddly worried. "Just—don't get your hopes up. I can't promise you anything."

With another snap of his fingers, Keith's body went flat as if it was nothing but a sheet of paper that was being turned over. And then, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, as he’d said, Keith popped back up in Shiro's apartment the same way he had disappeared. Dealing with and getting information was not at all his forte, so he'd put out word to a few demons who specialized in exactly that.

He wasn't a huge fan of information brokers, per se. They were generally snooty and self-absorbed and charged exorbitant fees for even the tiniest bit of knowledge. It had cost Keith most of the energy he'd gotten from Shiro just to find out that actually, none of them had ever heard of a purple demon with a weaponized arm. So much for that. Shiro and Pidge would be disappointed, but then again, Keith had told them right away that he couldn't do much—

"Keith!" Shiro exclaimed loudly, catching sight of him as he walked past the room. Speak of the devil.

"I—" was as far as Keith got. Shiro all but jumped at him, his one hand grabbing onto Keith's wrist and clutching it tightly.

"Pidge left." Shiro sounded urgent and worried, and didn't look at all good. Well, he looked _attractive_ , sure, but he was pale with a haunted look clinging to him, his fingers almost painful with the way they dug into Keith's skin. Keith suppressed his flinch and quickly shrugged out of the tight grip. He didn't quite understand why Shiro would be so upset over Pidge leaving, which surely was a regular every-day occurrence—"She took the book."

Ah. That was bad.

"That's bad," Keith blabbed out right away. He regretted it the second he saw even more panic bearing down on Shiro.

"I know." Shiro stepped closer, reaching out for Keith once more before pulling his hand back. He fidgeted, shifting from side to side, his hand curling open and closed over and over. He couldn't seem to stop moving, shoulders hunched up, his gaze jumping from one point to another every second. "She was so determined to do something, but I didn't think—"

"It's not your fault. Hey, look at me," Keith cut him off. He waited until Shiro's eyes stopped darting around and settled on him. "It's not," he repeated, voice firm. "It happens. Magical artefacts want to be used, and they always find someone desperate or stupid enough to do it."

For a short moment, Keith dared to hope that Shiro would be calmer now. But then Shiro shifted again, and it was as if Keith's words had gone right over his head. "What if she uses it? What if she's already used it, what if she's dead—"

"Then worrying won't help." Keith winced internally at his own words. This was not how comforting someone worked. Crap, he was so bad at this. Shiro looked even more freaked out now. It would be easiest if Keith just used his magic again, he couldn't botch that up too much.

But what good would that do? It wasn't his job to keep Shiro happy. That wasn't part of the deal. He shouldn't hand out his magic freely just because this human looked upset. That would be dumb and stupid and would only make his life harder. Nope, none of that.

Before had been different. Calming Shiro so he could tell them about that night had been essential to the deal. Keith had needed the information to go looking for Sam and Matt Holt. That was his good, rational reason. That was the difference.

So it didn't matter that right now the distress was rolling off of Shiro in waves. Shiro would have to deal with that himself. Yes. A good, rational decision. No getting attached.

Besides, Shiro was looking better already, his face brightening up as he seemed to have some sort of idea. Less desolate and worried, more hopeful. Great. "Can you get to her? Help her? You can do magic, right?"

Or not so great. Keith grimaced. "I know I'm repeating myself, but that's not the kind of thing I do—"

"But you _can_ ," Shiro nailed him down immediately, latching on to the small bit of hope.

Keith shifted uncomfortably. Under Shiro's wide, hopeful eyes, still brewing with worry underneath, he cracked. "Yeah..."

"Then please, find her," Shiro implored. "I know where she might be, but it will take me forever to go there and what if I'm too late—What if I'm too late and she's—" He broke off. He looked at Keith with those cursed eyes, a wet shimmer to them. Grown men shouldn't have eyes like that. Or such a desperate voice, tugging at Keith's heartstrings. Technically, Keith didn’t even _have_ a heart. "Please."

Protecting the girl wasn't part of the deal in any way. Actually, maybe Keith should add an extra deal just for that, demand even more energy from Shiro. That would be smart. The good, reasonable choice. No handing out his magic for free. Yeah.

But what if she was dead by then? What would that do to Shiro—not that this was in any way Keith's problem. Everything about this deal was weird and stupid. Maybe he should just up and leave.

Keith sighed. "Fine, I'll see what I can do." He felt bad as soon as the words were out, despite the way Shiro brightened up with obvious relief.

He was an incubus. There was nothing he _could_ do. Pidge was probably dead already, drawn in by the book to summon something evil and powerful, and Shiro would be devastated and blame Keith for everything.

"Thank you." Shiro sounded so, so grateful.

Keith had to fight hard not to recoil or shrink away. He nodded stiffly.

"I think she'll be at Garrison U—at the college downtown," Shiro explained, trying to speed things along. "It's a Sunday, so the buildings should be mostly empty and she can be uninterrupted there—"

Keith swallowed down whatever pathetic noise was trying to escape his throat. Shiro was so busy explaining hallways and turns that he didn't even notice how Keith's whole body had locked up.

It didn't matter, he told himself. This was just a stupid coincidence and it didn't mean anything and Keith had to get his fucking shit together.

Keith clenched his teeth and cut Shiro off. "It's fine, I'll find it."

Taken aback, Shiro's mouth hung open for a moment. Then he nodded. "Please, keep her safe," he repeated. "I can't lose her, too."

The words added fuel to the horrible mess of emotions already burning in Keith's chest. But this was not the time.

He gave Shiro a curt nod and snapped his fingers, sinking into the realm of magic.

 

* * *

 

Something tight was lodged in Keith's throat as he searched for an exit point to Garrison U. Every time he breathed, it stung.

Keith hurried to find the tech labs Shiro had described to him. He noted one room, holding the thrum of human life inside it, and slipped back into the human realm there.

The first thing he saw was the summoning circle drawn on the ground with chalk.

The lump in his throat tightened down like a noose, choking him up. He was too late—

"Hi there," Pidge's voice greeted from behind him.

Keith turned around like a puppet with its strings being pulled. Slowly, yet so uncoordinated that he almost stumbled over his own feet.

Pidge was lounging on a table, giving him a wide, impish grin. With one hand, she was petting the head of a small—Keith was hesitating to call it a dog. It kind of looked like a Yorkshire Terrier, but one that was woven out of dark, dancing shadows, with empty yellow eyes. It yipped at Keith as he continued staring, its little tongue glowing a soft white whenever it darted out to lick at Pidge's fingers. Pidge giggled.

"This is Rover," she introduced the tiny demon.

Keith continued to stare.

"I'm not sure what he is exactly," Pidge went on, unperturbed and slightly amused. Excitement shone brightly in her eyes as she scratched behind one small ear, the dark wavering shadows dancing around her fingers. "But he's one of the lower demons capable of transferring energy from one being to another. Meaning that with him, I should be able to give you some of my energy as payment for information. No weird sex stuff involved." She smiled at him, soft and hopeful and yet absolutely devious.

Keith was beginning to understand why Shiro was so in awe of her determination. "Fine," he agreed after a moment of hesitation. If he said no, Pidge would just come up—and go through—with something even more daring, it seemed. "Your energy in exchange for information from me. Excluding questions I don't want to answer."

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him.

"Like personal information," he tacked on.

Pursing her lips, Pidge nodded. "Okay." She held out her left hand, her right still petting the small demonic dog.

Keith reached out to shake it. The second they touched, a sharp pain surged up his arm. It was hot and burning, but already gone a second later, leaving behind nothing but a faint tingling.

On his left wrist, a mark had appeared—shimmering a soft green, a complicated array of lines and circles. Another mark of contract, the second one in as many days.

"Fuck," Keith cursed, inspecting the intricate symbol. "Why does this keep happening?"

"Uh, what's that?" Pidge had no qualms about immediately grabbing his hand, turning it this way and that to get a better look at the mark.

Keith huffed. "It's a contract mark. It's a—mark, and it has something to do with contracts. Somehow."

Pidge gave him a disbelieving look. "We make a deal for information, and that is all you tell me?"

"It's all I know," Keith defended himself honestly. As Pidge's brows rose higher and higher, he resolutely pulled back his hand. "What? It's not like I ever went to demon school. I'm about as good at giving you information as I am at finding missing people."

"So. Very bad?"

Keith nodded. " _Yes_. Finally you're getting it."

Pidge considered his answer for a moment. "Tough luck," she said then, shrugging. "You're getting paid for both, so you better deliver. I want my brother and dad back."

What a little shit. "Both of you are going to regret this," Keith hissed, and he meant every word. Pidge didn't look particularly impressed, so he tacked on, "You should text Shiro. He thinks you've died a horrific death."

Guilt crept into Pidge's expression, her satisfied smirk replaced by a sour frown. She pulled out her smartphone and hastily typed a message. "Happy now?" she asked, hitting the 'send' button.

Before Keith had a chance to reply, her phone buzzed with a new message. Then another one. And another. And then even more.

"Oh shit," Pidge muttered under her breath, trying and failing to keep up with replies. The small demonic dog yipped whenever another buzz sounded out.

"This is your own fault," Keith couldn't resist to tease, snickering as she glared at him—before another buzz distracted her. "You should take the book back to Shiro. There would be a lot of trouble if someone else got their hands on it."

"Mhm," Pidge hummed, nails clicking on her phone screen as she typed. Whatever. Keith was pretty sure that she would keep an eye on the book, considering how much information it held.

"I'll leave you to it," he excused himself and sauntered out of the room. Luckily, Pidge was too busy at the moment to question why he didn't simply portal away, and Keith was grateful for that.

He knew that it was silly and childish. But now that he was here already, he wanted to take just a few steps through the hallways of the college. There were barely any people around, everything quiet and deserted, but he could still pretend.

Maybe during lectures, these halls were empty and deserted as well. Maybe it was just as quiet, only his own steps echoing hollowly. Maybe it would have been just like this—

A door opened next to Keith and someone ran out, barreling straight into him. A jolt went through Keith's body, like an electric shock but more painful. The person shrieked, even though they remained standing while Keith tumbled to the ground.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't expect anyone to be here, I should have looked—"

"It's fine," Keith cut off the guy's apology. He jumped back to his feet, casually looking himself over. Despite the sensation just now being similar to receiving the contract marks, no new mysterious symbols had appeared on him. Good. He had let himself be dragged into enough weird shit already.

"I'm still sorry," the guy insisted, his worried brown eyes roaming all over Keith as if he expected to find some major injury from the small fall. Keith took the moment to size the other guy up. There had to be some reason for the weird sensation he'd just had. But the young man's dark skin, genuinely worried expression and big build revealed nothing overly ominous. A garish yellow hat, an open winter jacket, the rest of his body hidden beneath warm clothes. There was _something_ about him that unsettled Keith, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He tried to get a sense of the guy's energy, but couldn't grasp it at all. That was to be expected, the guy was most likely straight. There was no way to access someone's energy if they weren't interested in sex with him.

Maybe the guy was just an ordinary guy. Maybe Keith was so confused because straight men weren't usually this polite. Maybe Keith should just let it go, because he was involved in two weird contracts already and didn't need even more trouble.

"I'm good," he assured the fidgeting man once more, then continued on his track down the hallway. The man nodded, looking slightly frazzled, and walked the other way.

There. Situation resolved. All was well.

Except there was something niggling in the back of Keith's mind now. Some realization close by, but just out of reach. Like a word sitting on the tip of his tongue. He struggled to find it but couldn't quite grasp it.

Then, as he reached the end of the hallway and was about to turn the corner, realization struck him and he harshly jolted to a stop.

Stories whispered like myth. Warnings exchanged in hushed tones.

Shocked, Keith whirled around, staring at the young man who he had just bumped into.

From the other end of the hallway, with equally wide eyes, the hunter was staring back at him.

For a few moments, it was just that. Just staring.

Then Keith turned the corner and made a run for it as fast as he possibly could.

What the hell was a hunter doing _here_. This was bad. This was so very, very bad. He was only a minor, little incubus, having no offensive capabilities at all. Even his seduction and calming magic wouldn't work on a straight guy. If that hunter got his fingers on him, Keith was fucked. In the bad way.

"Wait!" the hunter called out from behind him, over the thundering of his heavy steps. Keith did the only reasonable thing and sped up even more.

He just had to get away—and that was easy, he remembered suddenly. He was a demon.

As soon as he'd dashed around the next corner, Keith snapped his fingers and slipped into the demon realm.

Even there, the hunter's voice still echoed in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I put a lot of obvious (and not so obvious) hints about future mysteries into this fic, as well as lots of references to the show. Just in case you want to theorize about what kind of demon attacked Shiro or why Keith keeps getting colorful marks in weird places or who that mysterious hunter could have been ;D


	3. Tip 03 — Have at least a vague idea of what you're doing before you actually do it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Pidge had gone through all the trouble of summoning another demon, she really wanted to know what the hell was going on. Shiro couldn't stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, I still love everyone who left comments or kudos or literally just spent any amount of time looking at this fic. Thank you for being here. Please enjoy the boring worldbuilding with a side dish of angst and cuddling!

Keith, being the smart and sensible being that he was, decided that he should spend some more time in the demon realm before he returned to Shiro's place.

It wasn't because he was shaken up after running into the hunter—not at all. That would be childish and ridiculous, and Keith knew far better than to get spooked by something so simple. It also wasn't because Shiro might need someone to comfort him, and Keith had no idea whatsoever how to comfort someone. He might, in fact, be even worse at comforting people than at turning down sad people asking for a deal. Not that it mattered.

No, Keith was simply considerate enough to understand that Shiro was likely still upset and would want to have some time to himself. Time to calm down, put himself back together, maybe have an argument with Pidge. Something that would involve lots of yelling and crying and emotional confessions. Which would only be even more awkward if Keith was around for it, so they would be glad not to have him there.

So here Keith was, killing his time in the demon realm—being incredibly considerate. He was great. Everything was great. He had, for some reason, not only one, but _two_ mysterious marks, binding him to the humans he'd struck a deal with. But everything was great.

Okay, so maybe the marks were a little confusing. Keith had heard mentions of 'contract marks' before, but they didn't show up every time someone made a deal. He himself had made a lot of deals and never had one before. This kind of nonsense didn't happen during his usual 'sex for energy' exchange. Maybe he would be able to find out what the hell had happened there, once he had some energy to barter with again. At least one information broker had to know something, right?

With Keith's luck, it would be Slav. He couldn’t stand Slav.

 

* * *

 

Keith opened a portal back to Shiro's apartment several hours later. He was so dizzy from the jump that he almost fell over, a headache pulsing behind his eyes. Even though he had taken some energy from Shiro the night before and then a little bit from Pidge as well, he was running dangerously low now.

Much lower than he usually allowed himself to be. Fuck, dealing with these people already had him discarding all the rules that had kept him alive so far. Keith wasn’t big on rules, he was willing to admit that, but he _always_ made sure that he had enough energy to switch between realms, just in case he found himself in over his head.

At least, he usually did. But checking on Pidge after she had left with the book and then running from the hunter had taken more out of him than he’d anticipated. Especially that last, panicked jump.

He gritted his teeth, found his balance, and took a deep breath.

Time to get his act together. He may have been weak, but that was no reason to let these humans he’d met not even 24 hours ago _know_ he was basically defenseless. That was how dumb demons got killed and Keith really wasn’t in the mood for that.

“I’m back!” he called out, forcing himself to straighten up like he wasn’t dead on his feet when two pairs of steps hurried towards the room.

“Keith!” Shiro called out in relief, having reached the room first. Pidge squeezed in after him a moment later, keeping her distance while Shiro reached for Keith’s wrist. Keith mentally steeled himself for _that_. He hadn’t forgotten how tight Shiro’s grip had been before and it made ice grow in his chest. But to his relief, Shiro only patted his shoulder. “It’s good that you’re back,” Shiro greeted him with a surprisingly friendly smile. “Thank you so much for finding Pidge earlier.”

“I was perfectly fine,” Pidge grumbled behind them.

“You were summoning a demon,” Shiro pointed out, brows drawn up so far it was frankly impressive.

“A nice one,” was Pidge’s protest, but Shiro didn’t look convinced. In fact, when there was a quiet yip from the hallway a moment later, he only looked even more accusing.

“I can’t believe you brought it along.”

Pidge didn’t look the least bit deterred, even as the tiny dog made of dark twisting shadows shuffled into the room and she leant down to pet its head. “Well, I need it! How else am I going to pay Keith to find out all of his demon secrets?”

“I don’t know many demon secrets,” Keith prepared her for the disappointment that she would inevitably encounter.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous when Pidge only stared him dead in the eye, unblinking and fiercely determined. “Great, all the more reason to get started then!”

Despite Shiro’s protest that anything related to demons would be dangerous and they maybe shouldn’t stick their noses into it too much, they settled in on the couch of the apartment. It was a very lumpy couch and Keith hoped that his expression properly conveyed his displeasure to Shiro, who still looked equally displeased at what Pidge was doing. She had settled down right in the middle, looking quite comfortable, a laptop perched on her crossed legs and “Rover” curled up at her feet.

“I started writing down some questions,” Pidge began, the glow from her screen illuminating her face and making her glasses reflect the white light. Keith couldn’t help but think that she looked like some kind of evil anime genius. The comparison seemed eerily appropriate.

Just what he gotten himself into here? Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many questions. His headache was getting worse and Keith mostly wanted to curl up and sleep until it went away. He couldn’t even take any energy from Shiro this soon. There was no way that Shiro had recovered from last night yet.

“First off,” Pidge began, unfortunately looking _very much_ like she had a long list of questions prepared, “that demon school you mentioned, was that a joke or did you really flunk out and I can still sneak in there to learn more?”

“Pidge, _no_ ,” Shiro gasped out, looking more shocked than he should be, considering that he’d known her for much longer than Keith had. And even after a few short hours, Keith already knew that apparently, Pidge just was _like this_. He could fully believe that if necessary, Pidge would make up a fake demon persona just to infiltrate a demon school and learn more about magic and how to find her missing family.

Luckily for Shiro’s frail nerves, that was not a scenario that would play out. “It was a joke,” Keith explained. Pidge’s shoulders sunk with something _much_ too close to disappointment for comfort. “There is no demon school. You turn into demon and get to figure it all out by yourself.”

“That is so unhelpful,” Pidge grumbled under her breath. Then she shook her head, re-focusing on the task. “So how do you turn into—no, wait, I should really ask this one first. Since we made this deal, do you have to tell me the truth when I ask you stuff? And no lying on this one, in case you can!”

Keith would have pointed out the flaw in her logic there, if it wasn’t for the frankly terrifying glare she was fixing on him at the moment. How could someone so small be so intimidating? Keith had always struggled with intimidating people because of his size. Should he ask her for pointers?

“The deal you made is information for energy.” Thoughtful, Keith looked down at the green mark that had appeared on the inside of his left wrist when striking the deal. He would really feel better if he knew _why_ that had happened. And the black mark from Shiro, too. Ever since he’d given in to Shiro’s puppy eyes, everything had been very strange. But this was not the time to be distracted, and at least he knew more about magic than these two amateurs. “You didn’t specify that the information had to be the truth, though—so I’m pretty sure I can lie to you. The sky is green. Demons aren’t real. I have been to outer space.”

With each new sentence, Pidge’s eyes widened almost comically. Keith didn’t try to hide his snicker.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Pidge hissed sharply, one hand coming up to run through her already messy mop of hair. “Are you serious?”

Keith shrugged. “Uh, yeah. But I’m not gonna hold it against you. All these technicalities of magical laws and deals are really confusing and I’m honestly not that great at it, either. Don’t worry, it’s not like I get anything out of lying to you.”

“This is still the most frustrating thing ever!” Pidge cursed under her breath.

“Gotta be precise. I don’t make the rules.” Keith shrugged again.

“We’re all going to die,” Shiro muttered, sinking down onto the end of the couch that Keith wasn’t occupying and sounding only a little like he was exaggerating.

“You might,” Keith agreed freely. Shiro groaned. Pidge joined him. “If it’s any comfort,” Keith hesitantly followed up, because he was pathetically weak to all the _feelings_ shining in Shiro’s tired eyes, “those were obvious lies. It gets more complicated when you’re being all precise about the details, since magic language is—tricky.”

With a hopeful shimmer behind her creepy reflecting anime villain glasses, Pidge leant forward. “Tricky how?”

Keith had to think about his answer for a moment. Magical technicalities were difficult to explain, and it didn’t help that he’d learnt most things he knew by trial and error. “So, there are different languages,” he began eventually, waving his hands in a vague motion that honestly didn’t make sense even to himself, “but not in magic. You can both understand me and every other demon, because we all speak _magic_ , and magic translates into something that everyone understands.”

“ _Neat_ ,” Pidge gasped out. Her creepy anime villain glasses only got creepier with the added manic gleam of interest. “How does it work?”

“I have absolutely no idea. But magic translates by intent, mostly. So if you are, let’s say, a really sneaky demon and you want to trick someone into a deal that you don’t intend to follow through on. They are like, ‘please do this and leave me unharmed’ and you absolutely plan on having your buddy kill them right away. Depending on your intent and what language it gets translated into for them, what you say might come out as ‘sure, _I_ won’t hurt you’, and if they’re not completely stupid, they’ll catch on that you’re having someone else do it.”

“But if I’m that hypothetical evil demon, can’t I just _lie_? Assuming my victim didn’t make a deal that I would tell the truth beforehand?” Pidge asked, intrigued.

“You have the makings of a supervillain,” Keith felt required to point out.

“Thanks,” was Pidge’s cheerful reply.

Keith chose to accept this as another aspect of her scarily determined personality and moved on. “But you can’t lie. Magical deals are different from human contracts. If you don’t follow through on your end of a deal—within whatever wiggle room you gave yourself—it’s just,” he broke off, struggling to put the vague sense of _this is a fact_ into words and frowning when it made his headache even worse. “I don’t even know. Something horrible happens. Everyone just knows that you don’t do it, ever. Even the most awful bastards don’t outright lie when they make deals.”

“That’s amazing.” Pidge looked ready to dive deep into the mysteries of magical deal-making. For her sake, Keith hoped that she wouldn’t actually break one just to find out what would happen.

A few moments went by that were filled only by the sound of Pidge’s quick typing and Keith trying to convince himself that it was _his_ head, so if he just tried hard enough, he could make the headache go away.

It didn’t work. It just made the headache spike, and then everything was worse.

“So next question,” Pidge went on eventually, looking up from her screen. Keith grunted in acknowledgement. “How much do I actually have to pay you? In—energy? Is there a measurement system for it? Or a currency? I mean, can you have savings? Do you have to pay energy taxes?”

“You have more questions about this than I ever did,” Keith grunted. They weren’t even _bad_ questions, but with the pounding going on his skull it was a lot more thinking than he was willing to do. He was never letting himself get that low in energy again.

Pidge clicked her teeth, but stayed poised to note his answers as soon as he began. “Someone’s crabby.”

“I think that’s just his personality,” Shiro threw in, apparently capable of shaking off his despair when there was an opportunity to insult Keith. Keith shot him a betrayed look.

But teasing aside, he didn’t want to put up with this for much longer—and the question _was_ the perfect opportunity to demand some payment. “Everyone has energy, both humans and demons,” he began his explanation, determined to keep it as short and concise as possible. “Some pretentious idiots call it ‘quintessence’ or whatever, but energy is what it is. Mostly it’s measured in percent, because everyone has roughly the same amount when they’re full and that’s easiest when bartering. You can’t really have more than a full 100 percent, even though, again, there are some pretentious assholes who have some unnecessary fancy storage methods.”

“I can’t believe there’s a demon bourgeoisie,” Pidge huffed, and despite his headache Keith had to snicker.

“Yeah, demons aren’t big on authority, but there’s still some assholes thinking they are better than the rest of us. But in the end, they are just as fucked as me, because we are all soulless creatures and have to focus all our time on getting energy from somewhere or else we die.”

“This took an unexpected turn,” Shiro muttered with a concerned look. “What do you mean, you don’t have a _soul_?”

Keith shrugged, hoping that it would cover up how he shrunk down under that look. There was no need to look so _worried_ for him. That was just awkward and uncomfortable. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Demons don’t have souls. That’s just how things are. Think, like—souls are chargers, okay?”

Both Shiro and Pidge gave him very empty looks at the metaphor. Suddenly, Keith was really glad he didn’t usually do this information stuff. Explaining the inner mechanics of magic to complete amateurs was very frustrating.

Trying to think of a useful way to complete his metaphor, he went on. “Humans and demons, they’re—I don’t know, phones. TV remotes. Whatever. Humans have souls, so it’s like they’re constantly charging. Unless some demon comes along, you’re at a 100 percent, and if you lose energy for some reason, you just recharge. Demons don’t have souls—chargers—so we need to get energy from somewhere else. Like I got it from Shiro.”

“Yeah, you sure _got_ some, Keith,” Pidge snickered under her breath, earning herself a chuckle and high-five from Keith and a fierce blush from Shiro. Which honestly looked adorable.

But even with the crafty wordplay, Keith still had a headache and really wanted to get this over with. “So that’s why demons always haggle and give nothing for free. If you just hand stuff out, you don’t get any energy in return and you die. I gave away most energy from last night asking around for your missing friends—”

Two pairs of eyes were suddenly boring into him, way too hopeful for comfort, and Keith immediately regretted mentioning the issue. Their hopeful attention had him tensing up so much that his headache spiked _again_ , getting closer to unbearable, and he quickly dashed their hopes before they could get any more _optimistic_ on him. “I didn’t hear anything useful so far, sorry.”

Even though Keith had warned them that he wouldn’t find anything, the sudden harsh disappointment in the air was hard to bear. Pidge visibly hunched over, lips going thin, but Shiro just looked even more exhausted than before.

Keith clenched his teeth, swallowing down his own feelings. He barely knew these people, he really couldn’t allow himself to be dragged too deep into their issues. The chances of finding the two abductees were incredibly slim, especially with _him_ doing the searching. He would only cause more disappointment for Shiro and Pidge later on, and becoming emotionally invested in them would make the whole process more painful than it had to be.

These two deals were an easy energy supply for the foreseeable future, and that was Keith’s stake in it. Nothing more. He couldn’t afford to forget that.

“So until we have all recovered some energy, we’ll have to wait,” he said loudly, suppressing his own flinch at how he cut into the silence. He made an effort to relax his tense posture and his clenched teeth, if only to relieve his worsening headache. “The price of information is—it’s up to demand and supply. If it’s very useless information that no one needs, it’s not worth much. And if it’s information you can get from basically anyone, it’s also not worth much. But if it’s something important and only a few demons know about it, it gets pricey. I don’t think—it shouldn’t be too expensive, finding out where your friends are, but I need to find someone who _knows_ and that is difficult. Most information dealers demand 10 percent just for saying if they know _about_ something or not.”

His words didn’t help the desolate mood that had settled over the room. Keith sprawled out on the couch with a carefully controlled movement. He was relaxed. He was not invested. All was well. No reason to be tense.

“Anyway, what I’m telling you is basic stuff, so I’m not gonna demand too much. But I’m also the _only one_ you can ask, seeing as there are no other talking demons around. And I need to make a living. Just—see it as an investment towards finding your family. But that little conductor you got down there—”

“Rover,” Pidge threw in, but her voice was so much quieter than it had been before. No longer teasing or interested, but just—hollow. It made Keith want to sink into the ground. Why had he brought up their missing friends?

“Fine,” he sighed, “ _Rover_ here is probably gonna take half of the energy you give me. So this is a very good time to end this interrogation, because it’s going to take you at least a week to pay me for all the hard-won knowledge I gave you so far.”

“Sure,” Pidge muttered, still just as downtrodden as before. The small demon dog yipped and began licking at her fingers when she leant down to pet it. At least that had Pidge perking up a bit. “So, how does this work, exactly?”

“I’m not really sure,” Keith had to admit.

“Do you know _anything_?” Pidge hissed under her breath, not necessarily malicious but definitely annoyed.

Keith crossed his arms defensively. “I already told you, _none of this_ is my job. You wouldn’t know what to do if someone suddenly asked you to—to milk a cow!”

“And I will never have to,” Pidge wisely pointed out. She picked up the small dog and put it down on her lap, only for it to immediately scramble off her legs and go sniffing at Shiro. When Shiro cautiously raised his hand towards its head, it made a happy chuffing sound, tongue coming out to slobber all over his fingers. Pidge cooed, and Keith thought it was absolutely adorable, aside from Shiro looking about ready to climb over the side of the couch to get away from it.

“Please just get this over with and then send this—Rover away,” Shiro asked, wiping his fingers off on his shirt with a grimace. It left behind weakly glowing stains.

“Fine, fine, stop being so worried.” Pidge chuckled and pulled Rover away from him, depositing the small dog instead between herself and Keith. The dog’s nose twitched once, before it yipped at Keith in challenge.

That might have been the moment when Keith decided that _yeah_ , Rover was definitely adorable and couldn’t be that bad.

“Maybe it’ll be enough if we just touch him at the same time,” he suggested, not all that optimistic that it would work, but hey, he didn’t have any better ideas at the moment.

Pidge didn’t look any more convinced than he felt, but also just nodded along. “Sure, we can try.” She gently petted Rover’s shadowy ears, which only calmed the dog for a short moment. As soon as Keith cautiously reached out, Rover began yipping at him so loudly that it was almost a full bark.

Keith, in a gesture showcasing his superior intellect and emotional maturity, glared back at Rover and imitated the yipping sarcastically.

Pidge cooed again. “It’s cute how you want to fight him, Rover, but we need you to transfer some energy first, okay? Can you do that for us?”

Rover stopped his ruckus for a moment to turn to Pidge with wide, yellow eyes, his small glowing tongue hanging out and his stubby tail wagging innocently.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Pidge praised, patting his ears. “How about it? You’ll get to keep—let’s say a quarter of the energy you transfer for us?”

The dog chuffed unhappily, then barked three times.

“Oh my god,” Shiro gasped out, leaning forward to keep an eye on the proceedings. “Don’t tell me he’s—bargaining?”

“No way,” Pidge chuckled. Her eyes glanced at Keith’s serious, un-smiling expression, and went comically wide. “Or is he?”

Keith could only shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Pidge’s ensuing gasp was very shocked and even more intrigued. “ _Wow_. Rover, is that true? Do you want a _third_ of the energy instead?”

The dog blinked at all of them with unknowing, yellow eyes. Then it had the audacity to _nod_.

Pidge cursed under her breath, absolutely delighted, her hands coming up to clutch at her chest. “This is the greatest day ever. A bargaining dog. I am _definitely_ keeping you.”

“You’ll have to let him go soon,” Keith pointed out, earning himself a _very_ affronted gasp. “Don’t look at me like that. Without a contract, he can only stay here for a limited amount of time. And you guys _really_ shouldn’t make any more deals. Since you named him, you can probably summon him again. Specifically. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great, good to know.” Pidge nodded with returned enthusiasm. “Let’s get this started, then. How much energy do I owe you? Do I have to do—anything?”

Keith calculated for a moment. “Let’s say about 70 percent,” he decided then, “plus fees to Rover. But you really shouldn’t go below 50 percent as a living human being, so how about for now—20 to me, 10 to Rover? You can give me more once you’ve recovered.”

“How long does that take?” Pidge asked, looking just sneaky enough that Keith was sure this was her way of finding out more without having to pay for it. Maybe Pidge wasn’t quite as hopeless at dealing with demons as Keith had first thought.

“If you eat and sleep enough and don’t do anything exceptionally stupid, you should get back about 10 percent each day,” he explained—then, carefully, tacked on, “maybe.”

Pidge’s eyebrows rose in question.

“I don’t really stick around after taking energy, most times,” Keith huffed out, feeling a bit uneasy with how they were watching him. It felt very awkward. Despite being a demon, he knew very well how society viewed sex workers, and what he was doing wasn’t much different from that. The way they were looking at him now, with just a hint of worry in their eyes—it didn’t sit right with him at all. “Anyway,” he went on, consciously unclenching his teeth once more to keep his headache from getting worse, “you should be careful, because summoning takes up energy, too. As does keeping Rover here, while he’s not contracted. That’s why you should send him back once we’re done.”

“Fine,” Pidge grumbled, not looking happy but at least accepting the advice. That was good. Keith really didn’t want to start a second rescue mission today.

With a nod, they both leant in to touch Rover’s fur, and this time the small dog accepted Keith’s hand on his ears. He yipped, shadows rising up from his fur—or maybe it _was_ his fur, it was hard to tell with the little thing—wrapping around Keith’s and Pidge’s hands. Shiro made an alarmed sound, accompanied by a jerking move forward, but Keith waved him off.

“It’s fine,” he reassured Shiro, sighing happily the next moment as Pidge’s energy flowed into him and that cursed headache _finally_ eased up. No more dragging along at barely 10 percent of existence.

“Oh my god, this feels weird,” Pidge gasped out warily, looking down at her hand. “My whole arm’s going cold. And I feel kind of dizzy.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Shiro asked again, looking ready to tear Pidge out of the clutches of the demonic dog if need be. “You said you’ve never done this before.”

“It’ll be _fine_ ,” Keith repeated, rolling his eyes and curling up more comfortably. “It can’t take more energy than Pidge has agreed to. Deal rules.”

“Doesn’t the dog _have_ a deal then? You said we shouldn’t make one.” Shiro’s fingers were twitching, unsure and nervous, making Keith kind of want to hold his hand just so he would stop fidgeting like that.

“Different kind of deal. Conductor deals for conductors and sex deals for incubi are—ugh, it’s complicated, but it’s _different_. Ask me another time, it’s making my headache come back.” With a frown, Keith closed his eyes and sunk as deep into the lumpy couch as he could.

Even though he could all but _feel_ Shiro still fretting, there was blessed silence for the next few minutes until the energy transfer stopped.

“Ugh, I feel like I just pulled an all-nighter,” Pidge complained and Keith lazily opened his eyes. Rover yipped as she ran her fingers through his fur, jumping onto her lap. “Yeah, you did great. Thank you. I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

The dog yipped once more. The staticky sensation of magic bristled in the air, and then Rover was gone.

Shiro sighed in relief. Loudly. “I’m glad that is done. Please, Pidge, no more demons?”

She grumbled something under her breath but then agreed. “ _Fine_. Only you are allowed to have your new boytoy. It’s not fair, though.”

Shiro choked on something and Keith stifled his chuckle into the couch cushions. As soon as Shiro had regained some composure, he held out his hand. “And leave the book here.”

“What?” Pidge defensively made a step back. “No! I won’t summon any more stuff, I know that’s too dangerous for now, but you _have_ to let me look through it. Maybe I can figure out some way to find Matt and Dad, or at least learn more about what happened. You’ve had it long enough—without even telling me what happened!”

It was obvious by Shiro’s hurt expression how guilty he still felt about that. Maybe that was why he hung his head after a moment, nodding in defeat. “Fine. But nothing dangerous. Promise me? At least not on your own.”

Pidge stepped up to him and gently took his hand into her own. “Of course,” she mumbled, averting her eyes so her bangs hid the gathering tears. “I know you’re just trying to look out for me. I’ll be careful.”

Shiro nodded, sounding just as choked up as she did as he squeezed her fingers. “Good. Take care, Pidge.”

A moment passed, filled by rasping wet breaths from both of them, before Pidge fell forward into a hug, Shiro’s arm immediately curling around her and holding her close.

“We’ll find them,” Shiro said, voice so quiet and rough that Keith could barely hear it.

Pidge nodded, her face pressed against his chest.

Keith felt like he had unwillingly intruded on a very personal moment. He quickly averted his eyes and made himself as small as possible. Pretending he wasn’t there. Very good plan, very mature. He stayed quiet and unmoving, even as he heard Shiro and Pidge pull apart and exchange goodbyes.

Only when the door of Shiro’s apartment closed did he dare to look up again.

“Uh, sorry you had to witness all that,” Shiro said, smiling sheepishly and waving his arm.

Keith shook his head. “No, it’s—it’s fine.” He relaxed marginally. “So, what do we do now?”

The answer was, as it turned out an hour later, Netflix. Human technology sure had come a long way.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want anything to eat? Or to drink?” Shiro asked later that evening, gracefully balancing a box with leftovers on his biceps that had clearly been designed to be opened with two hands. Keith had pretended not to see him try and fail to pry open the lid for the past five minutes, but now that he had obviously looked in Shiro’s direction, he held out his hands.

Was it rude to offer his help? Would Shiro take it as an insult, that Keith assumed he couldn’t get by with just one arm? But seeing Shiro struggle and not offering any help was rude, too. Right?

Thankfully, Shiro only looked a little embarrassed as he handed the box over to Keith who swiftly popped it open and handed it back.

“I don’t need anything like that,” Keith answered belatedly. “I know I look like one, but I’m really not a living human being. You don’t have to treat me like one.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to be rude,” Shiro called from the kitchenette with some intermittent clattering. “Just let me know if you change your mind at some point.”

“Sure.” Keith watched on, half-intrigued, as Shiro brought a steaming bowl of pasta with him to continue their marathon of Elementary. Shiro kept insisting that it was better than the other adaptation, and Keith had just nodded in agreement since he didn’t really know any other Sherlock Holmes TV shows. Shiro had looked suspicious enough that Keith _had_ known of Sherlock Holmes, immediately sending Pidge a text, and then Keith had been so busy dodging his questions that he’d completely missed who had been the murderer that episode.

But now, with a mouth full of pasta, Shiro was delightfully quiet and Keith could enjoy the show. Even though it was _also_ hard to concentrate when Shiro’s food smelled so nice—

Nope. No more getting used to this.

Sure, Keith was capable of eating human food, but he didn’t _have_ to. And once this was over, there would be no more opportunities for Netflix marathons or delicious meals. Keith would only miss it then and feel especially miserable. There was no need to do that to himself.

Things were nice right now, yes, but nice things never lasted. He couldn’t get attached to Shiro, Pidge, or any of this.

 

* * *

 

 

At some point past midnight, Shiro looked tired enough to fall asleep on Keith and drowsily brought up the question of who would sleep where. Seeing as Keith didn’t _need_ to sleep, he had no issue telling Shiro to use his own bed, leaving the lumpy couch to Keith.

Shiro balked at the suggestion, obviously still unable to draw the line between ‘being polite’ and ‘treating a demon like a human being, which they are not’. But eventually he relented, dumped three blankets and a pillow on Keith, and swayed off to bed.

Keith was pretty sure that he had won their discussion only because Shiro had been half-asleep, processing words at the speed of a dying computer from the 90s.

He regretted his victory soon.

Shiro had logged out of the laptop, leaving Keith with nothing to do. And while Keith _could_ fall asleep and had even changed his clothes to a comfy, oversized t-shirt and sweats for a nice nap, he had to find out that Shiro’s couch was a thousand times more uncomfortable when he wasn’t focusing most of his attention on Joan Watson.

It was hell. This horrible, awful couch belonged in _hell_.

Somehow, Keith managed to drowse off eventually, only to wake up an indeterminate amount of time later, feeling more tired than before and with a crick in his neck. He jolted up as soon as he registered movement—nothing good happened to a demon who let down their guard—only to see Shiro standing in the hallway, caught like a deer in headlights.

As shitty as Keith felt from his brief stint on the couch, Shiro definitely looked _worse_. Eyes wide and with dark bags beneath them, sweat shining on his forehead, a rigid set to his shoulders and a tremor in his hand that was bad enough that Keith could spot it even from his distance. Shiro’s voice sounded rough and on edge as he spoke, quiet in the darkness of the room, “Sorry—did I wake you up?”

Keith shook his head, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what was wrong. “It’s fine.”

Shiro looked worryingly overwhelmed at having to talk to someone. “I—sorry,” he repeated eventually, shifting his weight from leg to leg and swaying so badly that he suddenly lost his balance. Keith was half-way over to him by the time Shiro caught himself and waved him off. “Sorry,” a third time, “just wanted to get something to drink. I’ll—uh, you can go back to sleep.”

Something twisted uncomfortably in Keith’s gut as he watched Shiro swaying off into what he assumed was the bathroom. Keith did not miss having human bodily functions.

By the time Shiro came out, visibly surprised that Keith was still up, Keith couldn’t help but ask, “A nightmare?”

Shiro shook his head much too soon to be believable, especially since he still looked like death warmed over and the motion made him stagger again. “It’s fine,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “Just—happens sometimes.” He hesitated on his way back to his bedroom, bloodshot eyes mustering Keith for a long moment. “Last night, I—you—I didn’t—” Shiro frowned, cutting himself off. “Never mind.”

“You slept okay last night,” Keith spelled it out.

It really wasn’t any surprise. Shiro’s body and mind had been exhausted after Keith had taken some energy from him, and giving people sound sleep was one of the first sex demon tricks. It was practically no effort at all.

And Shiro looked so terrible, so _scared_ after whatever he had just seen in his dreams—

Keith took the few steps necessary to reach the bedroom first and opened the door. “I’m sharing your bed tonight,” he announced loudly. “Your couch is a nightmare and you’re no good to me if you can’t rest properly and regain your energy.” With long steps he stalked over to Shiro’s bed and sat down on it, desperately hoping that in his sleep-addled mind Shiro wouldn’t realize how awkward Keith felt, inviting himself into someone’s bed.

He shared people’s beds for sex, and for sex only. There had been one or two encounters that had ended with someone falling asleep on him, but that had been _after_ sex.

Not like this. Never like this.

But Shiro looked both lost and a little hopeful now, pressing his lips together as something glimmered wetly in his eyes. There was deep exhaustion etched into his features, an unsteady sway to his steps as he approached Keith. The way he nodded was hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of Keith’s statement.

And beyond all that, Shiro looked incredibly grateful when he climbed into bed next to Keith.

Keith’s chest ached with something he stubbornly refused to name.

Shiro lied down with ample distance between them, still looking tense as he curled up.

Keith opened his mouth but found himself struggling for the right words. He was already inserting himself into Shiro’s space right now, what if he was taking it too far? Shiro had _looked_ as if he wanted some company, but maybe he didn’t want to cuddle with a total stranger. Hell, it was pretty _likely_ even that Shiro wouldn’t want to have a demon in his bed. It was the obvious conclusion, the only one Keith could draw, really, looking at how far Shiro stayed away from him.

Keith gritted his teeth, barking out almost defiantly, “If you don’t want me here, you can just say so. You don’t have to stay ten feet away from me and suffer through it.”

Shiro turned to him with shocked eyes. “No, I—I just wanted to give you some private space.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m a _sex demon_ , Shiro,” he huffed. “I’m not here for private space.”

“You— _now_?” Shiro's expression scrunched up in shock. _Hurt_.

Keith could have bitten his tongue off for how he’d derailed his offer. Why did he always say the wrong thing and make everything worse? “ _No_ ,” he hurried to say. “Not—Shiro, I’m not here to fuck you. I just—” Shiro’s brows furrowed in confusion while Keith was desperately searching for a way to express what he’d meant to do. “I just—I thought you’d like to have someone around. I’ll go back to the couch now.”

He sat up, but Shiro was grasping his wrist before he could go anywhere—only to immediately let go as if he’d been burned. “Sorry,” Shiro mumbled, pulling his hand back.

Now it was Keith’s turn to frown in confusion. “What—Shiro, what are you even sorry for?”

Timidly, Shiro gestured towards Keith’s wrist. “You—uh.” He averted his eyes. “When I grabbed your wrist this morning, you flinched and pulled away. You obviously don’t like that. I’m sorry for doing it again.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open and he hurried to close it again. His gaze dropped down to his wrists before he could help it. Grimly, he bit down on his lower lip. It was true that he didn’t like it when people grabbed him too harshly there—it always brought up bad memories. But Shiro had known him for only a single _day_. How could he have picked up on that already? Keith was supposed to be better than this. Not so weak that complete strangers could spot where he was vulnerable at a glance.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass,” he hissed, harsher than intended but unable to feel sorry with the stifling unease that was building up in his chest. He wasn’t _weak_. He could take whatever the world chose to throw at him. “You can do whatever you want to me, that’s literally what I’m _made_ for.”

“What?” Shiro sounded so unexpectedly pained that Keith had to look at him, despite the way his eyes were burning. “Keith, no—I— _no_. Do you really think that _I_ would—?” Shiro broke off, shaking his head. “No, that’s not even the point. I don’t want to treat you badly just because I _can_. No one should. Is that really what people do to you?”

The sheer concern and pity in Shiro’s eyes were like a punch to the face. Keith could feel his composure cracking dangerously. “It’s none of your business,” he growled, anger raising up like a flame in his chest and thankfully drowning out all of the wretched vulnerability Shiro made him feel. “ _None_. Don’t involve yourself in my life, don’t you _dare_ —”

Shiro looked like he’d been slapped, and Keith quickly cut himself off. He could feel his various transformation glamors creaking against the force of his anger, and he knew that the spell hiding his true eyes was always the first to go.

As much as incubi pretended to be human, Keith’s real eyes were still glowing yellow with stolen energy, just like any other demon’s. For a second, Keith entertained the thought of giving Shiro a good scare—surely, if his disguise crumbled Shiro wouldn’t confuse him with an ordinary human anymore. Wouldn’t dare to bring feelings and pity and _affection_ into this.

But Shiro so obviously feared what demons truly looked like, after what had happened to him. How could Keith drag that up, when Shiro had made such an effort to not touch his wrists, simply because Keith had looked a little uncomfortable?

He was an asshole.

Shiro wouldn’t even want to have anything to do with him, once he saw Keith’s true form. And it would be so much smarter to get it over with now, to break this off before Keith could get used to it, instead of suffering through the loss later, but—

Keith wasn’t ready to give this up yet.

He slowly lowered his gaze. Luckily, the transformation was still holding and his eyes looked human. He breathed, slow and deep. He had to hold this form—Shiro couldn’t see him like _that_.

“I’m sorry,” the words broke out of Shiro, startling Keith from his thoughts. Shiro looked uneasy and tense, and as guilty as Keith _should_ have felt. “I didn’t mean to pry into your life—I crossed a line.”

Keith nodded tersely, even though it felt wrong. Why was Shiro apologizing to him? It was Keith who had pushed himself into this situation in the first place.

“I can understand if you want to leave now,” Shiro went on, shuffling aside so Keith would have plenty of room to do just that. “But—I would like it if you stayed.”

Keith found himself nodding again, more relaxed this time. “I told you, your couch sucks. I’m staying,” he huffed, hoping he wasn’t being too blunt. But the small, brittle smile on Shiro’s lips had to be a good sign, right?

“Thank you,” Shiro breathed, audibly relieved.

“I’m not doing it for you,” Keith blurted out right away. “I told you. But—like I said, you need to regenerate your energy. And you have to get some decent sleep for that. So if you need some cuddling or a bit of sleep magic for that, just—just say so. Don’t make it weird.”

Shiro blink gave away his surprise. Then his slips stretched into a wider, softer smile. Something warm and tender fluttered in Keith’s chest, certainly completely unrelated to the sight. “I don’t want to ask you for even more magical favors,” Shiro murmured softly, very slowly shuffling closer, “but I think—cuddling would be nice.”

Keith sank down into a lying position and held out his arms, feeling terribly awkward. A _lot_ of time had gone by since he’d last hugged someone. But this late-night exchange had already been emotional enough, and that was a fact about him that Shiro really didn’t need to know.

Shiro was incredibly slow and cautious as he draped himself along Keith’s side. He gently laid his head down on Keith’s shoulder, his arm coming to rest across Keith’s chest with stunning care. A deep sigh left Shiro, and with it, all tension seeped out of him. Keith made sure to hold very still, despite Shiro’s warm breath fanning against his neck and sending shivers down his spine.

A few aborted sounds came from Shiro before he eventually settled on, “Thank you, Keith.”

“Sleep well,” Keith answered, trying to sound even a fraction as gentle as Shiro was touching him, and wincing when his voice came out too rough.

Shiro fell asleep much sooner than Keith would have anticipated, steadily curling more and more into Keith’s warmth, his arm resting over Keith’s heartbeat.

Keith’s simulated heartbeat.

A bitter smile settled on Keith’s face as he laid there, silent in the darkness, still feeling the soft puffs of Shiro’s breath against his throat. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Shiro would sleep better when he felt like he had another human being nearby.

Sex demons _relied_ on making humans feel comfortable. It was why they faked body heat, heartbeats, breathing, and a human appearance in the first place, more than any other kind of demon did. While the berserkers and information dealers looked however they wanted, eyes glowing yellow with their energy, skin so colorful they almost looked like aliens, and adding all other types of variations as they pleased, Keith was stuck looking like _this_.

He’d never wanted to be an incubus. He wasn’t seductive, or charming, or even remotely likeable. He would have much rather had superior strength and reflexes, instead of relaxation magic and the ability to effortlessly shift into what someone else wanted to have sex with.

But now, with Shiro sleeping so easily on him? He couldn’t help but be glad that he was imitating a living human.

Being with Shiro, it was so—nice. So easy. And Pidge had been so intriguing, so excited, so _kind_ , too.

Keith glared at the ceiling, gritting his teeth.

Nice things didn’t last. He couldn’t forget that. If he got attached now, their disappointment when he failed to find their friends would only be more painful. This was a business arrangement, nothing more. It was convenient, a few easy recharges, and it would end once they realized he was the wrong guy for the job.

And even if he did somehow succeed, it still wouldn’t change anything. He would still have to leave and be alone again. All of this was temporary and built on misconceptions. Things might seem good at the moment but—

There was no way Shiro could ever fall asleep on an undead, soulless, yellow-eyed monster. Not if he knew.

Keith was enjoying borrowed time, and the second he forgot that, he was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Keith being in denial is my new favorite hobby and you will have to bear it for a long time to come :p  
> Semester is going to start up again soon and I don't know how much time I'll have for writing. I hope it won't be too long until the next update :'D Until then please content yourselves with all the little hints hidden in this chapter of what's to come, some people were very successful with that in the chapter before ;)


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